Web of Lies
by The Once Caged Bird
Summary: Suspicious of his brother's rationale for invading Midgard, but unable to get the Trickster to open up to him, Thor turns to the only person who has bested Loki at his own game: The Black Widow. But trying to get the captured God of Chaos to reveal his true motives will be much more difficult than even she had anticipated. /No pairings as of yet/ All Avengers involved /
1. Shwarma, Tales, and Coffee

/Web of Lies\

Chapter One: Shwarma, Tales, and Coffee

In the aftermath of Manhattan's destruction, the Avengers were finally allowed the chance to recuperate. As Director Fury had put it, with his usual gift for extreme understatement, they had "earned a day off." When he'd seen their dirty, bloody, disbelieving faces, he had laughed and allowed Agent Hill to deliver the good news that they were officially off duty until such a time came that they were needed again.

Captain America had respectfully offered his services in the efforts to clean up and restore New York City. The others momentarily took on a look of dismay at the thought of so quickly going back to work, but hesitantly seconded his offer, after a few whining remarks about "I took on a _missile, _I think I've earned a _bath…"_ and "forget a bath, I need a nap…" etc. To which Fury replied that they were all required to take a week off. In the interest of keeping the world's first line of defense healthy, of course.

After their brief debriefing, the Avengers found themselves seated around several pushed together tables, in a little hole in the wall diner, eating perhaps the best meal they had ever had: _Shwarma. _

However, after having eaten their fill, the six of them found themselves on the verge of collapse, and Natasha had nodded off by the time Tony had called Happy to come pick them up and return them to Stark Tower, their new temporary home.

_That night…_

Natasha had always appreciated the rejuvenating feeling of a hot shower after a difficult assignment, and she easily chalked that day's ordeal up number three on her list of top ten most arduous missions. Running a towel through her still-damp hair, she made her way to Tony's mostly destroyed kitchen/bar to get herself a glass of water. She was tired and concentrated on her bare feet avoiding the shattered glass and slate, so she didn't berate herself too harshly for not noticing Thor's presence until he cleared his throat. At the noise, her gaze snapped up and she saw the god seated on Tony's leather couch on the other side of the room.

"Thor," she nodded her head in acknowledgement, continuing to pick her way over to the cabinet that housed the glasses.

"Agent Romanoff?" he said her name like a question, causing her to glance over her shoulder at him quizzically as she grabbed a glass.

"Yes?" She queried after a moment. The tap wasn't working, so she assumed the pipe had been damaged at some point or another. She made her way to the refrigerator.

"If you have a moment, there is something that I would like to speak with you about," Thor said politely, though his voice sounded tired. Glancing at the god again, Natasha could see that something was greatly troubling him. The uneaten plate of food resting on the table in front of him was proof enough for that.

It was that look that allowed her to say, "Sure," as she grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge, abandoning the glass. She really wanted nothing more than to sleep, but she had realized long ago that some things were worth losing sleep over. She had a feeling that this might be one of those things.

Making her way over to him, Natasha had to leap over a particularly shard-y indent in the floor. She remembered seeing Loki sprawled in that dent earlier in the day and vaguely wondered how he was fairing in SHEILD captivity once again. Or rather, how the agents were fairing with their charge. Hopefully the muzzle would keep his tricks under control until he could be returned home, and out of their hair.

Unceremoniously, Natasha plopped herself down beside Thor, once again noting his troubled countenance. He appeared to be deep in thought, perhaps attempting to decide how he should phrase what it was he wished to say. But Natasha had an appointment with her bed within the next thirty minutes, and if she could, she wanted to be early for it. So…

"What's up?" She prodded tiredly, leaning back into the plushness of the leather. She supposed, for Tony, only the plushiest would suffice. Beside her, Thor sighed.

"If I might, Agent Romanoff," Thor began hesitantly, "I feel that there is something not right with this situation, but I know not why." Yes, definitely going to lose sleep, Natasha thought somewhat sadly.

"This situation?" She asked for clarification, sitting up slightly so she wouldn't doze off. It was rare that she saw the charismatic and charming god so serious outside of battle.

"My brother," Thor said, his brow clouding with several emotions – love, regret, confusion, disappointment - but strangely lacking in the anger that Natasha had anticipated. _What kind of bond must they have had for there to be no animosity in Thor even after the events of today?_ She wondered curiously as Thor continued.

"This all seems far too easy and, much like his first capture, I have begun to wonder if Loki allowed us to take him," Thor rumbled, obviously unsettled. Meanwhile, Natasha's eyebrows arched in disbelief. _Too easy? _ They had only just avoided nuclear annihilation! She didn't voice her disbelief, though. Thor obviously knew his brother far better than anyone else did.

Instead she took a sip of her water and asked, "What makes you say that?"

Thor looked at her apologetically and said, "I mean no offence when I say this, Agent Romanoff, but if Loki had truly wished to subjugate the Earth, it would be his."

This time, she let her disbelieving expression show. "Oh?" she prompted, and Thor continued.

"I know you doubt this, Agent Romanoff, but you do not know my brother as I do… as the Asgardians do," he said, affirming her earlier conclusion. "In Asgard, he managed to conceive, implement, and accomplish a coup that gained him the throne; a feat that has never been achieved in our long history. And he did it in a matter of weeks. You understand if I take today's victory with a grain of salt."

Natasha took another long draw from her water bottle as her mouth had gone inexplicably dry. It was never easy, was it? There was _always _something more to the story, wasn't there? It seemed that simple victories really did only exist in the movies. _Be rational, Romanoff, see if you can gain more information, _she thought, irritated with herself for her useless cynicism.

"I understand what you're saying," she assured. _Now for the doubt, _"But really, we all saw him bested by the Hulk in this very room" –she nodded towards the indent- "and Tony had to redirect a nuclear missile to save all of us. I really don't think Loki could have beaten either of those things, no matter how tricky he is… Maybe his success in Asgard could be attributed to the circumstances and the fact that he _knows _how Asgard works?" She ended optimistically, knowing that if Thor was simply over thinking, that this answer might sooth his worries. However, if this were truly something to worry about, he would deny her explanation and give her his reasons, and thus more information to work with. It was a simple manipulation, and it was unnecessary since Thor would probably tell her everything she wished to know, but old habits died hard in the ex-assassin.

"No, Agent Romanoff," Thor said quietly. Natasha almost winced –so it _was_ something to worry about- and Thor _never _said anything quietly. This was _really_ something to worry about.

"You speak of Loki's defeat at the hands of the Hulk," Thor continued, analyzing the dent with confusion and suspicion, "But remember that I could take many strikes from the Hulk without sustaining anything more than slight bruises – barely worth mentioning."

Natasha grimaced, seeing where this was going, "Don't tell me…"

"Though not as physically strong, my brother is as resilient as I am," he affirmed, "And he has more powerful healing magic than all of our healers combined. I was greatly concerned this afternoon when he could barely rise from the Hulk's attack."

"Do you think he faked it?" Natasha asked, still trying to swallow the pill that Loki was as tough as _Thor_.

"It is possible, though I know not _why," _he admitted in frustration. "He refused to speak with me, so I cannot ascertain whether he allowed us to capture him when he could have easily teleported to another location, if he was incapable of tapping into his magic from overuse, or if he truly was unable to rise after his encounter, which would indicate an injury or illness… and that seems unlikely."

"If you had to guess?" the spy prompted, reflecting on her encounters with the man in question, trying to put together an answer based on his past actions. Unfortunately, he was not someone whose motives were easily pinned, unlike most men, so she would have to say…

"If I had to speculate? Loki is using his capture as a means to an end," Thor confirmed her thoughts. "What those means are and to what end he seeks, though, I do not know," he admitted, "However, if someone other than myself spoke with him – someone who could beat Loki at his own mind games – then perhaps we might discover why he allowed us this victory."

"You want me to talk to him?" Natasha said it like a statement. "You think I could get answers from him that you couldn't?"

"As I said before, he will not speak with me," Thor said with regret coloring his voice, "And you are the only person I have ever seen leave my brother at a loss for words. Truly, your ability to glean information from a person is impressive." Natasha quirked an eyebrow at the flattery, though she saw it was sincere, and contemplated Thor's request. She did not much relish the thought of facing Loki again. He was by far one of the hardest people to crack that she had ever encountered, and he would be wary of her this time around.

"He will not trust me," she warned, though she had already decided to do it. "It will _not _be easy to get any kind of information out of him." Thor understood her underlying consent, however, and smiled.

"You will do it?" He asked, seeming as if a weight had lifted off his broad shoulders. Natasha nodded.

"I will," she promised, "_Tomorrow. _Right now, I am going to bed." _And not get any sleep because I'll be too busy __**thinking, **_she added mentally.

"Yes, of course," Thor said excitedly, standing from the couch to offer her a hand up. She didn't need the help, but allowed him to play the gentleman. After all, he owed her.

Thor pressed her much smaller hand between his own. "You have my deepest thanks, Agent Romanoff," he said sincerely. He looked as if he might hug her, and so she quickly extricated her trapped limb.

"It's just Natasha," she told him, "And you're welcome."

They bid each other good night, and went their separate ways. Thor to get some rest after having voiced the worries that had kept him awake, and Natasha to ponder over the new predicament that would keep her far from sleep.

It was going to be a long night.

_The next morning…_

Natasha wouldn't say she _wobbled _down the stairs, but she would admit that she would feel a lot more stable after a very _strong _cup of black coffee. Italian Roast, if her nose was working more properly than the rest of her at the moment. _Bless Tony for remembering the small things… _she thought in a rare moment of generosity towards the billionaire.

"Good morning sunshi- oh damn," Tony paused mid-greeting, staring at her as if she'd grown horns. She immediately took back her kind thoughts.

"_What?_" She growled, making her way to the coffee pot. This was why she made a point to live alone. No _pestering_ until after coffee.

"Oh, nothing, I just thought for a minute that the zombie apocalypse really _had _begun," Tony said flippantly.

"_Stark…" _she said warningly, pouring black happiness into her cup.

"I mean, it would make sense, save the world, only to have another threat emerge, and one from my own labs most likely, I swear _I _don't know what half the things in there do, I for one wouldn't be surprised-"

"Has anyone ever told you that you are far too chipper in the morning?" Natasha said acerbically, contemplating the kitchen knife block that was only a few feet away. _To kill before coffee or not to kill before coffee? That IS the question… _she debated internally.

"Have you even seen yourself, Thriller?" Tony shot back, trying to goad her into a game of wit. It was a customary practice between them, but, unfortunately for Tony, Natasha was not in the mood.

"You get one warning Stark. Then I _**end **_you," she smiled sweetly, terrifyingly, in a way that had Tony backing towards the door.

"Whatever you say, Draculady," Tony quipped, hand on the door. Which he quickly launched himself through to avoid the paring knife thrown at his head.

Natasha watched the knife quiver in the wood of the door and blessed the quiet. Cradling her coffee, she made her way back to the leather couch she and Thor had occupied the night before. She would need to speak to him again today, gain more information, if she was going to make good on her promise to speak with their resident super villain. _But that would be __**after**__ coffee_.

Thirty minutes later she was washed, dressed, and feeling considerably more alive. A sentiment that Thor obviously did not share. She found him in his room – after having knocked several times – sprawled across the entirety of his king size bed, sheets askew, and mouth open and emitting snores that would put a foghorn to shame. He was the picture of an overgrown child and she couldn't help but smile at the sight, annoyance at his oversleeping gone in an instant. Briefly, she wondered if this was how Loki felt whenever he wanted to be mad at his brother. But she wouldn't know, since the only interaction she had seen between them had been overshadowed by anger and aggression. The past relationship between the brothers was a mystery to her, at least on Loki's side. This was one of the many things that she needed to know before entering a confrontation with the Trickster.

Once again serious, she strolled up to Thor's bedside, pulled his pillow out from underneath his head, and quickly backed away. His snoring cut off with a snort and shot up fast as, well, as fast as the lightning he wielded so easily; fists curled and stance prepared to fight. He also confirmed her suspicion that as a warrior he had been trained to be prepared for an attack in a matter of moments. Too bad he would have been dead if she had truly wished him to be, what with his deafness to the world outside his dreams.

She watched as he blinked and ran a hand over his face, as if to wipe away the lingering effects of sleep, and tried not to be too disgusted at how _fresh _he looked.

"Agent Romanoff?" Thor queried, voice groggy with sleep still.

"Natasha," she corrected and noted his state of complete undress. "I need you to meet me in the living room in ten minutes, we have a lot to discuss and not a lot of time. Half the day's gone already."

Thor glanced out the window and in his surprise forgot decorum, "The sun has only been risen for an hour at the most!" He protested, astonished.

"Exactly," Natasha agreed, amused to see him lose his ever-present politeness.

"Very well," Thor said, running a hand through his hair and yawning widely, "I shall be there in a moment." Natasha nodded and turned to leave.

"Oh, and don't forget to put on some pants," she said casually over her shoulder, "You wouldn't want to give the boys a heart attack." She had the immense satisfaction of hearing Thor make a somewhat choked noise before she closed the door.

A few minutes later, Thor came, fully dressed, into the living room, where Natasha was polishing off her second cup of coffee – this one with two spoons of sugar for energy – and flipping through a notebook. Glancing up, Natasha gestured vaguely with her coffee cup to the seat next to her.

Thor fell into the spot with less regality than usual, causing Natasha to arch an eyebrow at him. He seemed not to notice his newfound casualness, so she decided not to bring it up. Meanwhile, he took an orange from the fruit bowl on the table in front of them and began to peel.

"Do Midgardians not break their fast together?" He asked curiously after taking a bite.

"Hungry?" Natasha asked, amused, as she watched the Asgardian practically inhale the fruit.

"Famished," he admitted sounding almost serious, causing her to wonder if he was the type to become grouchy when he was hungry. Clint called it "hangry" and he suffered from it most terribly.

"Don't worry, Tony will be back with breakfast soon," she reassured him. "And he's bringing back a _lot, _so the Asgardians don't - how did he say it? – 'think we're starving their prince and decide to go all Loki on our asses'." To her surprise, Thor actually laughed at that.

"I can assure you that – by the blessing of Valhalla -Loki is one of a kind, and you need not worry about Asgardians. Your planet is under my protection," his eyes lost some of their brilliance, "And I will do everything in my power to make sure an event like this never occurs again."

Natasha smiled at Thor's attempt at reassurance and saw her opportunity to broach the subject of Loki.

"Speaking of Loki," she said, gesturing to her notebook, "I've written down all my observations of him, from every encounter that we've had with him." She caught his curious expression, and explained, "It's a habit that I've developed over the years, and you'd be surprised how useful it can be in my line of work."

Thor nodded his understanding and she continued, "But I don't have all that much to work with. I was hoping you could fill in some of the bigger blanks." At his perplexed expression, she added, "Answer some questions."

"What do you wish to know?" He asked, leaning back to make himself comfortable.

Natasha decided she'd start with the question that had been bothering her since this whole debacle began and asked, "Why did Loki invade Earth?"

Thor sighed, "Alas, you ask one of the few questions of Loki that I can only guess the answer to."

Natasha gestured for him to continue and he expanded, "I had initially thought that he was motivated by revenge against me and sought to destroy Earth to hurt me. However, he himself said that he wished to rule the earth, which made no sense. He told me he did not want the throne."

Natasha interrupted, "I thought you said he created a coup so that he could get the throne?"

"To prove that he _could_," Thor said, "I do not believe that he truly wished for the throne, at least, not in the way that he obtained it."

"Through trickery?" Natasha supplied curiously. But Thor shook his head.

"He obtained his chance to become king through trickery, however he did not anticipate our father falling into the Odinsleep," Thor explained. "He gained the throne by default where he would have rather proved himself worthy of the role."

Natasha processed this and felt that there was quite a bit of the story missing, and so she prodded deeper, "Why would he have to prove himself if he was already a prince?"

It seemed as if she had struck oil with that question as she watched Thor ready himself for a lengthy narrative.

As Thor explained their rivalry that had been encouraged since childhood, Loki's jealousy, the discovery of his true heritage in Thor's absence, and finally the sibling's fight on the rainbow bridge, Natasha began to have a fuller view of the man who she meant to interrogate. In the end, however, she had to agree with Thor. It didn't sound as if Loki was motivated by revenge against his brother. And even if he _was _seeking revenge, the way he went about it didn't seem to fit. If he was half as clever as Thor made him out to be – and Natasha could readily believe it – he would have charmed the pants off of every world leader, carefully taking out his opposition in ways that would not link back to himself, and eventually gotten himself elected president of the world. It might take a while, but he definitely seemed capable. If her character sketch of him was accurate, and most of her sketches were, he was the type that preferred to work from the shadows and manipulate his way into a position of power. He certainly took pride in his title _Silvertongue _according to Thor. Invading the Earth with an army did not seem like his modus operandi. It practically screamed: "come and stop me!" It was too crude, too heavy handed for someone of Loki's caliber.

Speaking of heavy handed, she realized something important: He would have known about Earth's nuclear weapons. He had worked with Selvig and Clint in close quarters for more than a week. Any leader worth their salt would want to know about their enemy's defense system. He would have known that in response to an invasion, the military would react with their most potent firepower. Why would he intentionally lead an army to war without some kind of defense against his enemy's weaponry? Perhaps he thought he could magic any attack away? But why take that chance when even he had to rest at some point, leaving his opponents with the perfect opportunity to strike? Thor's confusion made much more sense after hearing more about the man behind the attack.

At some point, Steve and Bruce had wandered into the living room and were listening with rapt attention to Thor, who was in the middle of describing how Loki had once snuck them into enemy territory by dressing the two of them as women, which had the men it fits of laughter despite Loki's involvement. Tony was still out getting breakfast – though she suspected he was also making himself scarce until he was sure she was no longer feeling homicidal urges – and Clint was probably still asleep – he had always hated the morning and could never understand how Natasha could force herself to wake up at four thirty every day.

Listening to Thor regale the other two men with stories of his and Loki's exploits, Natasha could barely reconcile the picture that Thor painted with the man who had spat at her, calling her a mewling quim – which was very impolite according to an apologetic Thor – and it made her all the more suspicious of Loki's motives.

Interrupting a story of a girl named Sif, whose hair had somehow been cursed by Loki when they were children, Natasha asked, "What about the Chitauri? What do you know about them?"

Thor broke off and seemed to contemplate her question before saying, "Truly, I do not know much about them. They are a warrior race, and occasionally fight for profit. Asgard has never needed their services and they were never stupid enough to challenge us in battle."

"Do you know anything about their leadership? Their people?" The spy pressed, hoping to find a motive, something they could have tempted the Trickster with.

"I do not know," Thor admitted, and as if sensing her next question he added, "And I know not why my brother would promise them the Tesseract. It seems an unfair trade, the Tesseract for the Earth…" Catching the Earthlings' expressions, he quickly amended, "At least, from Loki's perspective. The Tesseract contains immense power, power that he could utilize with frightening effectiveness. It seems odd for him to give up such power in return for the Earth, a place that he despises." Natasha nodded and filed the information away for future reference. Once again, things were not adding up.

Further questions were postponed by Tony, who heralded himself as the food-savior of the poor waifs whom he had so graciously let into his home. Natasha barely kept herself from rolling her eyes.

As they made their way to the table, which was now laden with a vast assortment of pastries, pancakes, waffles, omelets, and Natasha's own personal favorite cheese Danish – which she suspected was Tony's bribe for her continued good behavior and Tony's continued life – along with various other breakfast goodies. Natasha noted that Thor looked as if he had died and gone to Valhalla. Amused, she collected a plate of food – Danish first - before the men descended upon it and quietly slipped away to her room to eat alone.

Thor had given her much to think about.


	2. Gossip and Guts

**A/N: Sorry it took so long. Do you know how hard it is to write a character that is literally described as "staggeringly complex"? But c'est la vie, I'm working out how these characters should act, and I hope you *my dearest reader* will let me know if I stray from our beloved characters' true natures. Thank you and enjoy :)**

* * *

Chapter Two: Gossip and Guts

Tony noticed Natasha exit the kitchen – the other guys were too busy piling their plates with food – and did a mental fist pump of victory for his awesome death-defying-Danish bribing idea.

Tony: 1

Death: 0

Actually, according to his track record, it was really something like Tony: _50, _Death: 2½ (which was an accumulation of half points, because seriously, some of those times had been pretty close calls)_. _ So, mental accolades abound for once again brilliantly cheating death. He should get an award or something.

Then sound from the real world filtered throughand the mention of Loki brought his gratuitous inner applause to a screeching, protesting, halt. He immediately tuned in to the conversation at the table – that was going on _without _him – where Steve and Bruce were trying to cajole Thor into continuing his story of Loki and a person named Sif.

Obviously, Tony had missed something.

Snagging a donut, he heard the end of the story involving a golden crown, hair growing back black instead of blond, and a very angry Sif-person and Thor. Loki had apparently thought it was all in good fun.

"In his defense," Thor was finishing the story and his fourth waffle, "Sif had been teasing him mercilessly for being such a fair maiden and she should have known he would pay her back for her insul-"

"Wait, holdup," Tony interrupted, sure he'd misheard, "Loki was a woman?"

Thor didn't seem offended, "Yes, my brother may take the form of a female if he so chooses. He is a shape shifter." He said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world too. Then again, Loki had his magic hoodoo crap… maybe it _was_ natural. But still…

"That's – Loki as a chick?" Tony repeated dubiously, but then he reconsidered. "Actually, now that I think about it, that might be kind of hot, he's got the whole leather and domination thing going for him already." Bruce snorted at that. _Psh, as if he hadn't been thinking it himself_.

Steve, ever the practical one, ignored Tony and said thoughtfully, "He's a shape shifter? Funny, he never used that ability against us."

"I for one could think of a few instances it might have come in handy," Bruce agreed, tapping a restless finger against the table. Like transforming into a giant whale or something and busting out of a glass prison for instance…

"My brother has many abilities at his disposal," Thor rumbled, draining his cup of coffee (his favorite earth beverage, go figure). "Many of which he did not use. That is why Natasha has offered to speak with him. We are both troubled by his easy capture." Tony grinned mischievously. '_Natasha,' eh?_

"So that's why you two were up so late," Tony said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, "And here I thought you and _Natasha_ were busy practicing, uh, _teamwork - _and did you just say Loki's capture was _easy?"_

Thor shot Tony a reproving - seriously pretty scary - glare while Steve answered the question.

"Yeah, Thor and Agent Romanoff have been talking and decided something wasn't quite right with Loki," he supplied, glancing at the god of thunder. "Bruce and I caught the tail end of the story this morning and I have to agree. Loki's up to something, and Agent Romanoff is going to talk to him this afternoon to find out what it is."

Tony grimaced, all good humor gone, and said peevishly, "No, seriously, we're _done _right?Why are we making this our problem?" The three had the gall to answer.

"Fate of the universe at stake?"

"Loki would like to see us all dead?"

"And one does not underestimate my brother. He is not known as the god of mischief and chaos without purpose."

"Fine, _fine, _I get it," Tony made a face, "Loki's a problem – not _my_ problem since Nat got that honor, thank God – and he's going to remain a problem for how many more days – six?" He directed at Thor, who nodded.

"Right, six more days, and these guys will be gone – no offense Shwarzenorsegod – and poof, no longer our problem. I can live with that – and so should you guys." They nodded their uneasy agreement. _Damn, these guys need to lighten up, _Tony griped to himself (the only person who usually listened) as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. _Seriously, we just saved the whole freaking world yesterday. _Hmm, well his dad did always say the best way to occupy an idle mind was to give it work… It took no more than a glance at his surroundings for the idea to come to him.

"Now," Tony continued, clapping his hands in a decidedly maniacal manner, "You ladies are going to need to lay off the gossip and put on your big girl panties – we have a tower to clean up." He grinned evilly at the looks on their faces.

"Don't you have… robots to help clean up?" Steve asked, hesitating over the foreign concept.

"I loaned them all out to the city," Tony retorted flippantly (though not _entirely_ truthfully) and Banner groaned. But the three of them stood, ready for orders. And Tony was back in charge.

Assuming a militant personality, he listed off their orders with mock severity, "All right, Sergeant Sparkles, you're on sweeping duty – actually, first go get Legolas up, God knows, he's beyond the help of beauty sleep. Dr. Jekyll, you and me are going to be the world's most over-qualified electricians, and you, Mr. Universe," Tony grinned benevolently at Thor (who looked uneasy), "Since your brother's the one who, ah, crashed my pad, you're going to A) replace my window, and B) fix my sign."

Thor inclined his head in – somewhat guilty/apologetic – understanding, and Steve rolled his eyes muttering, "Sergeant Sparkles? Really?" before heading off to wake up the still-snoozing Hawkeye. Bruce was already rolling up his sleeves and arched an eyebrow quizzically at Tony.

"Ready?" Bruce asked dryly.

"Duh. Let's get started."

_That afternoon, at SHIELD's NYC Base…_

It had taken most of the morning to come up with different case scenarios for her upcoming encounter with the god of mischief, but eventually, Natasha felt she had prepared enough. After all, despite her natural ability for improvisation that would put most actors to shame, it never hurt to run through multiple, hypothetical situations so she wouldn't be caught off guard. And given her target was actually known as the "Originator of Deceits" and was already privy to her particular skill set – not to mention probably still irate at having fallen prey to said skill set - she would have to give the most convincing act of her life. It was a daunting prospect, though she looked forward to truly testing the scope of her skills.

And if she were being honest with herself, she was curious. About _Loki_. He was like no one she had ever encountered, and it would be interesting to speak with him on the other side of the battle. Though the prison would be the same, she supposed.

Before meeting with Loki, however, she needed to get permission from Fury, which was why she was standing before the door to his office. And a knock and an acknowledgement later, and she was inside the room, facing a very tired looking Director of SHIELD, who was currently barricaded behind a mountain of paperwork.

"Agent Romanoff," he nodded, eyes never leaving the document in front of him, "I thought I ordered you guys to go away?" Natasha snorted and moved a stack of folders from the extra chair to the floor so she could take a seat.

"I can see you're busy," she gestured to the piles of documents on his desk and vaguely wondered if the other Avengers knew their hard-ass boss wasn't taking any breaks for himself.

"Which leads me to wonder why you're here," Fury agreed, setting aside the document and rubbing his forehead before fixing his one good eye on the ex-assassin in mild annoyance.

"Sir," she leaned back and crossed her arms, "I won't waste your time, I want to talk to Loki." She had his full attention now if his arched eyebrow and cocked head were anything to go by.

Instead of denying her request outright, Fury mirrored her position and asked, "And why would you want to do that?"

"Because I've been thinking about it and something just doesn't sit right with me about this whole situation." She left out Thor's involvement for the time being. After all, Fury trusted Natasha's instincts more than most other peoples' hard facts. The price of being right too many times, she supposed. _Besides,_ she thought warily, glancing at the many nooks and crannies in the office, _this room could_ _be bugged… if the council heard half of what Loki was capable of, they'd have him killed, Asgardian justice be damned. _And that was not part of Natasha's plan – not yet at least.

"Care to explain?" Fury asked/ordered.

"Just a gut feeling, sir."

Fury's eye narrowed calculatingly, gauging her responses. He trusted her implicitly, though she could tell it still rankled to have her withhold information from him. Mentally sighing, she added, "I'll give you a report on anything of interest I find out."

His expression shifted to one of resigned satisfaction, and after a moment's deliberation, Fury nodded his assent, as she knew he would. Really, Fury gave her much more authorization than anyone else knew. Even his own second in command might not have gotten his permission so readily. But she was different - he trusted her with his life. She knew, he'd told her so himself.

"How long do you need?"

"As long as it takes for him to tell me what I want to know."

This time, Fury was the one to snort. "Good luck with that. I'll call down to let them know you're coming." Natasha nodded her thanks and rose from the chair, replacing the files she had moved. Fury stopped her before she got to the door.

"I don't need to remind you to be careful," he warned, "But just keep in mind who you're dealing with, you got that?" Natasha nodded briefly.

"Good, now get out of my office, I have a city to put back together."

The door was half closed behind her when Fury added, "And Romanoff?"

"Yes?"

"Question him, don't kill him."

She smiled and closed the door with a click, not bothering to reply.

_Meanwhile, in the basement level, in cell 14…_

Loki had long since discovered there were certain… drawbacks… to being a mastermind rather than a warrior. A warrior could simply cross swords with their enemy, and they would either win, or they would lose. And that was the end of that.

A manipulator like himself though… his forte required quite a bit of a virtue that he truly detested: patience. It was a necessary evil, and he was well practiced in its use, but that did not mean he had to like it. He had decided this as he lay on his bed and stared at the blank white ceiling above him, which perfectly matched the plain décor of the rest of his wretchedly dull cell. Granted it was a clean, fully equipped cell, with a bathroom, bed, and desk… and that was certainly an improvement from his _last_ cell. All in all, the mortals had treated him rather above what his classification as a super villain warranted. Many other races, Asgardians included, would not be so kind.

No, it was not the cell that irritated him – it was being left idle. If not for the muzzle, he might have asked Fury for that magazine he had offered. Even the vain, beef-witted drivel that the mortals passed as modern information would be preferable to the maddening torpidity he was suffering from. He was too used to his freedom to do whatever he wished. And this captivity left him with far too much time for plotting duplicitous activities– ranging from the devious to the diabolical - that he lacked the means to implement. It was deeply frustrating.

Furthermore, it gave him a great deal of time to contemplate his imminent deportation back to Asgard.

He truly had tried not to think about his old home in his year away from it. In a fashion reminiscent of denial, he had thrown himself into his newfound freedom. Though he found himself dodging Heimdall's gaze whenever he felt it prickling at the edge of his senses and always avoiding areas where Asgardians were involved – whether it be in conflict or peace keeping – throughout his travels across the nine realms, Loki had nonetheless found the experience somewhat liberating. He allowed his curiosity to take him over and had shoved his failure, his family, and his fall to the farthest, most unvisited corner of his memories. After all, what use had he for a family that no longer wanted him and likely never had?

Sometimes, though, when he was tired and left alone with his thoughts – much as he was now – he touched on some of the better memories of his past life, and even he could not lie convincingly enough to himself to say that he did not miss… everything… as it once was. But without fail, the next morning he would dismiss it as a moment of weakness and proceed to plan his next escapade.

And if, in the midst of one of his adventures, he turned to make a snarky comment to Thor and found no one there, then so be it. They had chosen their paths long ago. Those paths no longer paralleled. Thor's golden paved way would lead him to greatness, as a warrior, leader, and king. Loki had elected for a path of his own finally; lined with trickery and a wicked intellect that would bring nations crumbling down around him. Though where it lead, he knew not. He was only just tapping the vastness of his potential – a potential that could have never come to fruition while tied so neatly to Thor's side. Like the loyal Mjölnir, Loki had been nothing more than a tool to help Thor on his way to glory. But no more. Thor didn't need him, and he didn't need Thor.

Certainly, this most recent of battles had proved that Thor was faring just fine in Loki's absence. Moreover, Thor seemed to have grown… calmer? Less rash, certainly, though still foolish. It was as if his legendary ego had been taken down several notches. It was reminiscent of how he had acted upon his return from Midgard, though even more pronounced. Perhaps their separation had been beneficial for Thor as well. _There might even be hope for him being a wise leader of Asgard one day_, Loki mused sardonically.

And perhaps, one day far from this day, they might meet again as equals.

But it was a distant dream. Thor had been given his path to greatness on a silver platter - or celestial hammer as it were. Loki, however, had been stripped of everything and forced to begin again, and he would have to use every bit of cunning at his disposal to gain the kind of power that might equal that of Thor. In the year since their separation, Loki had yet to come to terms with his bitterness over Odin's betrayal and his obvious favoritism of Thor. Thus far, he had only managed to reign in some of his animosity towards his once-brother. Though still an arrogant, brash, _clotpole_, Thor was not responsible for his parents' actions. That alone, Loki could forgive him still burned him, though, when he thought of all the years he had _wasted_ trying to compete with Thor for a throne he was never intended to have. But he digressed, it was not something he wished to think of - it made him too furious even now, and the last thing he needed was to lose his head while his enemy was still so - how had Barton phrased it? – _trigger-happy_.

After all, he could hardly achieve his eventual magnificence if he were flattened by the ceiling as Fury had threatened should he "try anything funny." (Mechanisms were programmed throughout the ceiling tiles to drop enough tons of steel to crush even him, apparently). He had tried so hard not to scoff at Fury then. Really, this whole brouhaha on Earth had its amusing moments.

Imprisonment, however, was not one of those moments, and it was currently making him regret any and all involvement with the Chitauri's fool-born plan, as necessary as it might have been.

Though, he mused, now he knew for certain at least _one _path that would not lead him to his own greatness. _Yes_, he thought dryly, reflecting on his invasion of Earth, _I suppose I may truly conclude that brute force is not my forte_.

But then, he had never expected the invasion to work. He would even admit, given the right motivation, that he hadn't wanted it to work. Oh no, it was the Chitauri who had craved brutal domination. What Loki had in mind when he pictured Midgard's fall was much cleaner, subtler, and truly terrifying in its effectiveness. He grinned at the thought. Who knew? One day, he might get to implement his plans for the Midgardians. It would be a satisfying retribution for the irritation they had caused him and were causing him still.

And then his thoughts had come back full circle and he was back to contemplating how horribly bored he would have to be to actually crave _human_ conversation. Alarmingly, he realized he would welcome just about any company to stave off then next round of ruminations. This time he had escaped contemplating whatever punishment Odin would devise for him by focusing on memories of the past year. Next time, he might not be so lucky.

As if, for the first time in a _very _long time, the old gods had heard him, he suddenly heard the telltale sound of his vault-like cell door swinging open to admit someone. Fluidly, he rose from his bed to meet his guest, plastering on the vaguely amused and condescending expression he usually donned around the mortals. But his eyes gave away his curiosity.

Then, ever true to form, the old gods' humor showed itself in the form of Agent Natasha Romanoff, a.k.a. the Black Widow. The force of his surprise actually elicited an impressed snort from him and his mask slipped for a moment, showing his real amusement. _Oh, this is so typical, _he grinned, his cheeks straining against his muzzle; _I wish for company and receive an interrogator, possibly executioner. _Loki's shoulders shook with laughter.

Then the Black Widow's eyes met his own and he attempted to regain his composure. Once again the mask slid firmly back into place without conscious thought and he became the maniacally delighted god of chaos who had rained down terror upon the mortal realm. For some reason, this seemed to relax the Agent, as if seeing him genuinely amused was unnerving for her. Well, if she thought that was unsettling, she was underestimating him. He would enjoy keeping her on her toes.

"Loki," the ex-assassin said, her stance confident, her eyes leaving him for only a moment to assess his quarters, his jail. Apparently satisfied, her eyes made contact with his own again and he nodded his acknowledgement, obviously unable to offer his usual gracious greeting. She made her way closer.

"Pretty nice place for a super villain," she noted, gesturing to the cell. He shrugged and spread his manacled hands in an innocent '_it wasn't my idea' _manner.

"I think I like you better this way," she admitted ruefully, eyeing his muzzle. His eyes narrowed and she continued, "But to be fair, we've only spoken once." And without further ado, she started towards him. Loki wouldn't say he retreated so much as he gave himself space to consider her intent (though her smirk clearly indicated she believed the former). In his mind, it was easy: he didn't trust her. She could effortlessly smile to your face and plunge a dagger into your gut. He knew that particular feeling and had no desire to repeat it.

The ex-assassin apparently noticed his mistrust. Raising her hands in a nonthreatening gesture, she arched an eyebrow at him.

"I'm not allowed to kill you," she said, as if that detail was supposed to comfort him – though he supposed it did, on some level, as he knew she was the sort to actually obey orders, "I'm just here to talk." She nodded to his muzzle, "That thing kind of makes the whole point of my visit moot unless you let me take it off, though." Her voice was even, she maintained eye contact, and her body gave no tells that she was lying. But that meant nothing for someone with her abilities. Rather, he could not feel that she was lying to him.

_Well then, if that is the case_. He straightened his back, smirking like mad, and stepped forward, presenting his face guilelessly to her. He even leaned down so that she could have easier access. All the while, his eyes glittered with vindictive mirth. _Let us see how easy this mortal is to unhinge._

Her face showed none of the confusion he knew she was feeling at his easy compliance, but he saw her fingers hesitate over the clasps of the gag. Her eyes discretely searched his for a sign of deceit, but only found amusement. She "hmm-ed" under her breath and then her demeanor changed.

Slowly, sensually, she trailed a finger over the muzzle, her fingers just barely brushing his cheek, purposefully nicking one of the scratches there. He realized that she was very close now, her face mere inches from his own. He could almost feel the knife grating between his ribs at the dangerous intent she was exuding. Leisurely, she took hold of the muzzle and forced his eyes to meet her own.

"I am doing you a favor," she purred smoothly, "It would not go well for you to try my generosity, or that of my friends." Loki very nearly grinned again at their power play. _My, my, this will be entertaining, _he thought with anticipation as she, at long last, removed the muzzle.

"But my dear," he objected without missing a beat, "Where would be the fun in that?"

* * *

Next time: More Natasha-Loki interaction! I apologize that there wasn't as much of it as I'd hoped for in this chapter, but this seemed like a good place to end ** I have a horrible perfectionist streak in me, I like good stories, and am not a natural writer. Those combined make actually getting a story out in a timely fashion very difficult. So it may be on a weekly or bi-weekly basis that chapters come out. I had more to say, but I think I shall just bid you good evening and happy reading on ;D


	3. Danger Rising and Deals Wrought

A/N: First off, I'd like to thank you guys for the support on this story! As a new writer to this site, all reviews, faves, and alerts mean the world to me ^,^ Really, you guys are great! Because of you, my motivation to continue this story is still up and going. Sorry it's taken me so long, I kid you not, I wrote this chapter at least 8 times. But it is very important for the future of the story. So without further ado, I give you chapter 3!

* * *

Chapter Three: Danger Rising and Deals Wrought

_Deep in space… in the asteroid belt of the great moon Titan…_

The Other had unwelcome news to deliver to his master, the Mad Titan Thanos. Word had just come through to him of the Chitauri ship's destruction, the subsequent capture of the errant god of chaos, and by far most importantly, the loss of the Tesseract. Oh no, Lord Thanos would not be pleased.

Like any good general though, the Other did not show his trepidation as he knelt behind his master. If the Mad Titan did not destroy him for this disappointment, the Other swore he would find that lying coward of an Asgardian _maggot _and rip his silver tongue from his head and feed it to him still wagging… And if he did not survive this encounter… well, the afterlife would find him preparing his own special level of damnation for the one who cost him his life. Either way, the little _god _would not go unpunished for his failures.

"What news?" Thanos demanded quietly when the Other did not immediately speak. The Mad Titan did not turn to face him; he sat upon his throne, his icy gaze turned upon the deep blackness of space before him.

"Humans," the Other growled angrily. "They were not the cowering wretches we were promised. They _stand. _They are unruly, and therefore cannot be ruled."

Thanos rose, his back still turned, and the atmosphere shifted, rumbling with dense power, so close and so thick the Other bowed his head under the pressure of it.

Rasping through lungs that fought not to collapse in his chest, the Other said, "To challenge them… is to court death." Thanos turned to him, a slow, menacing smile spreading across his face.

"That is no deterrent to me. What of the Asgardian? The Tesseract?" Thanos growled, the pressure around them rising with his ire. The Other swallowed hard.

"Captured by the humans, the Tesseract taken by his brother," he panted out. Thanos' expression darkened.

"You will bring me both, or death will find you. She will not be kind, she will not have mercy, and she will not be swift. You have been warned. Now go," Thanos dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

The Other bowed low, and backed away swiftly, already calculating what he would need to accomplish his mission. He knew he would not have long, for the Mad Titan was not renowned for his patience or his consistency – only for his awesome power, deadly intellect, and unwavering dedication to the service of Lady Death herself. So he would need something expedient, clean, and flawless to lure out his objectives before they passed to Asgard and therefore out of reach.

Eventually he reached his quarters upon the greater asteroid and settled into his meditative position, and he thought.

When the idea came to him less than an hour later, the Other allowed himself a monstrous smile.

If all went according to plan, by the time the sun touched them again, the god of mischief would be kneeling before his master and the Tesseract would be his to present to the Titan.

And then, truly, the destruction of worlds would be nigh unstoppable.

* * *

It was mid afternoon before Tony decided they could have a break from the gritty, sweaty, _tiring_ task of tower fixing. Granted, his sudden benevolence (because Tony was the type that, once started on a project, was prone to see it through until completion) could have been because the resident archer had threatened – in a very inventive way that would have made Loki proud – _serious bodily harm_ if he didn't get some damn food. Having missed breakfast, he was swiftly proving Natasha correct.

Clint was hangry.

Thor found this development somewhat amusing until he turned to hear what was sure to be a scathing comment about "channeling Volstagg" from Loki, only to find himself face to face with a confused looking Steve instead. Clenching his jaw, he gave a strained smile that Loki would have surely seen through and excused himself from the room. Tony had expressly warned them that they were on their own for lunch, so Thor sought to make himself busy preparing his meal. Keeping his hands occupied helped calm him, focus him. Inaction and over thinking had resulted in many flipped tables.

So he made his way to Tony's enormous walk-in pantry, which was pretty sadly stocked if Thor did say so himself. A half box of cheerios, canned soups, Raman, and various assortments of easy cook meals were scattered meagerly across the extensive shelves. He did manage to find a box of strawberry pop tarts, which he promptly procured for himself. Savoring each deliciously sugary bite, Thor decided to try the fridge to see if he could have any better luck. Fortunately, there were enough ingredients for a simple sandwich, which Thor set about making with practiced ease. It wasn't much different from preparing food while out in the wilds on a hunting trip, or in the odd hours of the afternoon when the cooks were busy preparing for the evening meal and Thor didn't see the point in interrupting their work for a snack – it had nothing to do with the fact the head cook was a truly terrifying individual who had banned him and Loki from the kitchens as children, of course.

Briefly, he sniffed the contents of a jar of what looked like pickled green vegetable slices. Finding the scent favorable, he added a few to the sandwich, which included meat, meat, meat, and some ranch dressing he had found to his liking. He would have preferred the sandwich toasted, as Jane had once done for him, but found he lacked the patience that day to attempt meddling with the Earthen technologies that stifled Stark's kitchen. Perhaps he would ask one of his fellow Avengers to explain their "stove" and "microwave" later.

Finished making his sandwich, Thor took it and made his way out onto the balcony he had cleaned that morning. But he paused, as he had so many times earlier, when he came to the place where he and Loki had fought.

"_It's too late."_

Thor grimaced. He was not one for brooding; it was more of Loki's forte. However, his fight with Loki, and really the entire sequence of events following Loki's appearance on Midgard seemed so _off. _And the more he thought about it, the more it bothered him. Sitting down on the edge of the building, one leg dangling over the multistory drop, the other propped up with his elbow resting on it, he took a bite of his sandwich. Briefly, he thought about Agent Romanoff and hoped she was having more luck with Loki than he had.

Thor hadn't told the others at the time, that he had visited his brother just after Fury had left Loki in his cell on the helicarrier. Loki had been vindictive and cruel as only one who knew exactly where to thrust his edged words could. Thor had been too caught up in being hurt and angry and confused at the time, thinking about what Loki had said and what he'd done to those eighty people that he'd never stepped back to see the grand scheme, the _actions _that spoke so much louder than words. But he had more than enough time to reflect on it now.

Loki using less than half of his magical abilities; Loki only being _just _devious enough to avoid immediate suspicion; Loki revealing his plans to Natasha; Loki purposefully making Thor so enraged aboard the helicarrier that he never thought to question the genuine _smile_ Loki had given him when he stormed out; and finally, Loki giving up so very easily, after having only obtained a few bumps and scratches, and affably asking for a drink as if he hadn't a care in the world. As if _everything had gone according to plan. _

No, Thor was certainly not fooled. And when Natasha returned, he would most definitely be paying his little brother another visit.

* * *

"_It would not go well for you to test my generosity, or that of my friends."_

"_But my dear, where would be the fun in that?"_

Natasha found herself confronted with a highly amused and toothy grin on the other side of the muzzle. Loki didn't even bat an eyelash at her threat or her attitude, causing her to rethink her approach. He was too comfortable with threats, and surprisingly comfortable with seduction games – a fact she stored away for later examination. Time to change tactics.

Regaining her no-nonsense attitude with practiced ease, she backed away from the gleeful god and proceeded to make herself comfortable in his desk chair. She could have sworn she saw a glint of approval in his eyes. As if he were acknowledging a point scored on her side. She quirked a curious eyebrow at him.

"I'm sure we can get Banner down here if you're really looking for some fun," she said drolly, prodding for a reaction as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. He himself took a seat on the edge of his bed (the only other available place to sit), and she noted the almost imperceptible weariness in his frame. She watched as he rotated his jaw, flexing the stiff muscles of his face before "hmph-ing" at her comment and returning her arched eyebrow (albeit much more strikingly). Absently, she noticed that his face was very expressive, and could convey more feelings than she would have thought possible. Currently, he was expressing what she would label _amusement, shifting into memory, resulting in wariness shielded by mockery. _All with his eyebrows. She fought not to be impressed.

"While your green beast _is _fascinating," Loki drawled, drawing out the words in such a way as to make the sarcasm achingly clear, "I have no use for a second raging, muscle-bound _troglodyte _in my life, thank you." She snorted at that.

"Thor's not _that _bad," she said. Though the fact she knew exactly whom he was referring to would indicate otherwise.

"Oh, I can assure you – he is," the Trickster grinned amiably. Despite his smile, though, she felt as if his shields had come up a bit, even if she was unsure what triggered them. But she'd been expecting that, especially after their last encounter. Meanwhile, she'd try and get around the shields.

"Really," she reasoned, "I've talked to him a lot over the past couple of days –" Loki interrupted her with a laugh.

"Oh, I _am _sorry," he said with feigned sympathy, his green eyes glittering with wicked amusement. "I see now why you sought me out, the need for intellectual stimulation must have been dire indeed."

Natasha gave him a stoic glare, not appreciating Loki's humor at Thor's expense. But then a playful grin of her own curled at the corners of her lips as she said, "Well, we were talking about you after all." He didn't look surprised – in fact he smirked at her curiously, and his eyes were lit with something akin to triumph.

"Is that right? The almighty Thor of a thousand tales deigns to speak of someone other than his sacrosanct self?" Loki said pleasantly with underlying mockery.

Rather than continue to contradict him, as he obviously only had sarcasm where Thor was concerned, she opted for a change of subject. And what better subject than the man himself? If Natasha had learned anything in her years of coaxing information out of egotistical men, it was that nothing buttered the bastards up faster than talking about them. It was a weakness directly related to the need to monologue, and Natasha had exploited it mercilessly on many occasions. She had a feeling it might not work as well against Loki, but it was worth a try.

"Thor only had tales of you," she replied, unperturbed by his sarcasm. "And I have to be honest, I almost didn't believe some of them. That's why I'm here. You've made me _curious_." She cocked her head as if studying him, allowing her intrigue to show as if he were the most enrapturing person she had ever beheld and briefly wondered if he'd take the bait. She was rewarded with his own intrigue showing for a split second in his bright green eyes.

"I can see you're keen to share your findings from your conversation," he said with affected geniality, like a king offering scraps to a peasant. "Please, sate your need - I am your captive audience after all." He made a show of scooting back against the wall behind him and making himself comfortable before offering her an innocent smile. She shot him a glare and his smile became distinctly more toothy and insincere, as if seeing right through her game. He cocked his head as if to say, 'I will play your game. And you will lose.'

_We'll just see about that, Loki, _she thought, loving the feeling of excitement she always got when someone actually matched her skills. Mimicking the god across from her, she made a show of leaning back in her chair, as if contemplating where to start. _Best start off where he was at the top of __**his**__ game. _

"Well, first off, Thor told us you let the Frost Giants in on the day of his coronation," she began. Loki grinned.

"Ah, yes, a good day," he said fondly. Natasha gave him her best shut-up-I'm-talking face, which he ignored spectacularly. She sighed and resigned herself to many smart-ass comments to come. Thank God working with Tony had desensitized her to most sarcasm over the years. She continued

"I found myself thinking, 'what would you want to do that for?' Aside from the obvious reason, like messing up Thor's big day. You being you, the reason probably wouldn't _be _so obvious. Thor, and apparently everyone else, thought you ruined his chance out of jealousy. But then while we were talking about it, he mentioned that he wasn't ready to be king. Said he was arrogant, impatient, and spoiling for a fight. Not exactly qualities one looks for in a king. But those bad qualities were overlooked because of his popularity." She paused for a moment, gauging the god's reaction. However, he maintained his vaguely-interested-but-mostly-laughing-at-you-on-the-inside veneer flawlessly. She pursed her lips in dissatisfaction, but smoothly let the expression shift into apparent thoughtfulness.

"Now, what makes more sense? You, who have kept your jealousy – and yes, I know it's there – in check for several hundred years, finally cracking because Thor's about to get crowned? From what he said, you both knew he would be king one day. _Or_ you - being the one who was closest to Thor and unaffected by his charm - realizing that your brother could get Asgard into serious trouble with his ineptitude. You knew he would react rashly given the right circumstances. You knew you could show everyone they were wrong about their golden boy _and _seriously embarrass Thor while you were at it. And maybe even gain some recognition for once. That sounds more like the stories Thor told me of your childhood." _Orchestrating a situation like that… he'd make a __**great**__ spy or assassin, _Natasha thought, not for the first time.

Loki chuckled bemusedly and said, "It almost sounds as if you're casting me some misunderstood hero. Really your faith in my… humanity… is touching." He gave a great show of clasping his hands to his heart, "Really, I am moved to the depths of my soul." Natasha could actually feel the sarcasm coming off of him in waves. It felt… not forced, but… overdone? She had a feeling she had hit closer to home than Loki would admit. What kind of spy would she be if she didn't recognize a defense mechanism like that? Meanwhile, Natasha gave the god a singularly unimpressed look at his theatrics.

"You wanted to know what I thought, didn't you?" She asked pointedly, as if impatient. She knew he didn't really care what she thought, but she had a feeling that the mild entertainment he gleaned from her presence was preferable to the solitude he faced without her. A mind like his did not appreciate stewing idly for any length of time. More than likely, he wouldn't piss her off too much for fear of losing his only diversion from boredom. So for added effect she said, "Don't make me reconsider the gag." She threw in a threatening glare at him coupled with a deliberate glance at the gag sitting on the table in front of her. Loki raised his manacled hands in what was supposed to be supplication, though it came off more as patiently calming the mentally depraved. Natasha imagined his patronizing had earned him more beatings than was probably healthy for him.

"My apologies," he said, sounding less sincere in his remorse than Tony when confronted about his playboy ways (usually by Steve). Then his brow furrowed in feigned contemplation, even going so far as to tap his finger against his chin thoughtfully, though he couldn't quite keep the derision out of his voice as he ventured, "Though I do wonder how you will find a heroic light to cast on the rest of the story." Natasha gave him a cool, smug smile.

"Easy enough," she said. "You _weren't_ the hero for the rest of the story. Keeping Thor off the throne was the only thing that went right for you. After that, you lost control."

Loki grimaced and narrowed his eyes at her as if to say, _and I suppose you take great pleasure in my failures?_

"Many would question the existence of any, ah, _heroics_ on my part," he admitted, some of the pleasantness replaced with absolute ice. "Do go on though - your analysis is most fascinating." He said it like a dare. Natasha decided to wade back into less frigid waters.

Throwing him a smile to lighten the mood, she said, "You just like hearing people talk about you."

The Trickster huffed indignantly at that, but did seem to relax. She took his silence as her cue to continue.

"Anyway, you probably expected Thor would get punished for his actions. In fact I think you were counting on him being out of the picture so that you could get some undivided attention as the remaining prince. Eliminating the competition is nothing new in royal families you know." _She_ would know - enough siblings, bastards, and distant cousins had hired her to do their dirty work to clear the way to some throne or another.

Before he could take offense at her accusation of being unoriginal, she continued, "And even if you didn't want to rule, you can't say you didn't want to show people that you _could. _But you didn't get the chance. Right off the bat, your father goes into a coma, you've suddenly _got _the throne, you're on the brink of war with the Frost Giants, and you find out you're the son of the Frost Giant _king_. Not exactly what you had in mind, I'm sure. Am I about right so far?"

Natasha wouldn't have noticed his irritation at all if his left hand weren't clenching the sheets beside him with enough strength to rend the fabric should he shift. His amused features were still as fixed as ever, and could indicate either agreement or mockery. The Trickster nodded to her, though she felt it was less of an answer to her question and more of an acknowledgement of another point scored. It unsettled her that she didn't know what won her the point this time. Then he flashed her a smile as if he'd never heard of the emotion anger.

"Thus far, you seem to be reciting Thor verbatim, complete with the sympathetic twist in my favor," he said dryly. "I had rather hoped you beyond the influence of his infectious charm. It seems no one is safe any longer." Then he heaved a huge longsuffering sigh that had Natasha fighting back a smile. But she didn't allow herself to get sidetracked.

Pretending to ignore him Natasha tried to continue, "At this point, it's just speculation, but I have some decent guesses as to why you kept Thor from returning and then later attempting to kill him."

"And in your charmed state, you have no doubt given a viable motive to each of my actions – casting me as the guileless, misguided prince whose way was paved with the noblest of intentions, haven't you?" Loki deadpanned, eliciting an appreciative snort from the assassin. _If ever there were a less accurate description, _she thought with some amusement. Her words, however, were completely sincere. A fact she hoped Loki noticed.

"Well, I'll give you this: I think you actually took the role of 'king of Asgard' seriously. You were trying to figure out the best course of action with half the royal family MIA and your planet at war. I don't think destroying the Frost Giants was the answer, but then Thor told me you didn't exactly have the loyalty of the warriors. Not like Thor did. It's not like you could have led them to war. But you couldn't have Thor coming back and screwing things up for you either. Some of it was the need to prove yourself, according to Thor, but I think you also had the confidence you could figure out how to make Asgard justified in its war. Thor would have led the warriors in battle – struck first before the Frost Giants could touch Asgard. But you… you tricked the Frost Giants into attempting to murder the Asgardian king. Not only did that give you the opportunity to get rid of Laufey, it also absolved Asgard from the terms of your peace treaty with Jotunheim. Then you were justified in retaliating with any and all force necessary to neutralize your enemy. Where Thor would have lost many lives and proved Asgard as a traitor to their word, unintentionally of course, _you_ let the snake bite first, then proceeded to cut off its head and destroy its body without putting the Asgardians in harms way – a one-sided war. And why not destroy them? They'd been a thorn in Asgard's side for ages. The people would have called Thor a champion worthy of legend for finally getting rid of them. It made sense. So why didn't it work for you?"

"Thor returned," he answered her semi-rhetorical question. "He made it known that he no longer approved of war mongering. The people followed his lead." There was a hidden bite in his words that he didn't give voice to that made Natasha curious. It was a curiosity that had been building in the back of her mind since the conversation's beginning… a.k.a. Loki's candid behavior. Why on earth would Loki feel the need to hide his ire? What reason did he have to keep the conversation civil? He was returning to Asgard within a week, it's not like he needed to leave a good impression behind. The spy decided to test her theory – see if she could make him angry.

"I think you let your pride get in the way," she contradicted, while watching his reaction with a calculating eye. "Instead of telling the people you _needed_ to put trust in you the plan to get rid of the Jotuns, you made them suspicious of you. So they went to Thor, the guy they did trust. You ruined your own plan with your prejudice against the warriors three and by trying to do everything yourself. And it really didn't help your image to try and kill Thor you know." The reaction she elicited caught her off guard, because damnit if Loki wasn't _grinning from ear to ear _at her.

"Pride? Perhaps. But then, what better trick is there than to have people believe you do something for one reason and then prove them completely and utterly wrong about you?" Loki said mischievously. "The looks on their faces are hysterical. You probably know better than most what I mean." Natasha blinked a couple of times, somewhat perplexed. Then her mouth caught up with her brain and she gave him a wry smile.

"Your face was pretty funny, as I recall, when you thought I was nothing more than a _mewling quim_ and had that backfire royally," she said almost sweetly, recovering quickly. Though now he was giving her an apologetic smile she was sure had gotten him out of all the trouble his patronizing had landed him in as a child.

"As to that, I do apologize," he said with the utmost contrition and grace. "That was very rude of me. My lack of class offends even myself." There was a spark of humor in his apology, but other than that, he seemed more honest than a saint at the moment. It was somewhat disconcerting. And Loki probably knew it. _Oh well, best not to show it anyway, _she thought, mentally shaking her head.

"Believe it or not, I've been called worse," she deadpanned. _Though never that flowery, _she added mentally. Loki nodded his head in mocking commiseration.

"As have I. Though I can't imagine why," he said innocently. "But I digress; you were about to tell me why you believe I attempted to kill Thor?" For some reason, Natasha had a feeling Loki was well practiced in changing the subject before his conversation partner could get in a response and/or witty retort just to irk them. She didn't let it bother her though, just rolled her eyes and let him get away with it.

"You _didn't_," she said simply. "Easy as that. In all the time you've known each other, you've never had any inclination to kill one another. And from what Thor told me, there were some times both of you would have put _my_ control to the test." She got an amused snort for her effort and continued, "No, I think you were angry with the warriors three and trying to keep them all occupied until Jotunheim was destroyed. And I think you forgot how fragile human bodies are compared to Asgardian ones. I think you never imagined a passing blow could kill _Thor_ of all people. You miscalculated. Too bad that's just what he needed to get his powers back. The resulting fight between you guys was just a lot of pent up anger, from what I can tell. Well, am I wrong?" Loki surprised her again by seeming almost disappointed.

"I believe your story telling could use some work, Agent Romanoff," he said blandly.

"Is that all?" she queried. _All that work_ _trying to get a reaction from him, and that's all he has to say? _Natasha thought, trying not to be too frustrated. After all, she had told Thor herself that Loki wouldn't trust her. Which equaled him being wary around her. It was a shame; the conversation might have been fun if they weren't playing such a twisted game. _Or maybe…_ she thought, reconsidering, _perhaps this is exactly the kind of tête-à-tête we might have even under less hostile circumstances._ Then Loki was talking again.

"I think you humans presume quite a lot," he said airily, shifting in his position on the bed to make himself more comfortable. Natasha found herself hopeful that it was in anticipation of a much longer conversation.

"Such as?" she queried curiously.

"Presuming to know the motivations of a god, perhaps?" he shrugged, though his face was almost serious for once. "You certainly have reasoned out events in such a way as to give cause to each of my actions. But perhaps you have forgotten that I am the god of chaos and mischief? I would happily watch realms fall into anarchy, even help them on their way."

"But not your own realm," Natasha said confidently. Loki laughed.

"Oh, now _there_ is irony. Did Thor not tell you that I _am_ destined to bring about the end of Asgard? That when all is said and done, Asgard will fall to its knees before me, willingly or not? Ragnarök hinges upon _me._"

"Personally, I don't believe in fate and destiny," Natasha said flatly. "You make your own path, and then you die, simple as that… But say you really are the trigger for Armageddon. _You _will be the key to it. Not the Frost Giants, not some other realm itching for a reason to take on Asgard, but YOU. On your own terms. One day. Until then, they're yours to mess with. Like a family member that no one else can insult but you." Loki studied her for a moment, his eyes unreadable. Then he gave a small smirk.

"Very perceptive of you," Loki said. "And an apt comparison as, truly, no one but myself may insult Thor. Though I do believe it is because he does not realize he is being insulted." He trailed off thoughtfully for a moment before saying, "I suppose it is true that I prefer to be the one causing misery. It is exponentially more satisfying. Really, I must admit, watching the Chitauri rampage about was very nearly embarrassing. Though they were nothing if not effective." He gave the ceiling a very put-upon grimace at the thought.

"Not effective enough," Natasha couldn't resist pointing out.

"You wound me," Loki protested in feigned indignation, splaying a hand over his heart. Natasha noted the conversation shift, but decided to go with it.

"That would be the Hulk, actually. You look terrible by the way," she commented, making an exaggerated show of looking him up and down with her best unimpressed air. Loki didn't miss a beat.

"Agent Romanoff, you are hardly one to lecture me. You put Odin to shame with the shadows under your eyes," he retorted, humor dancing in his own.

"I stayed up late with Thor" – Loki's eyebrows arched suggestively – "_talking_ and then I spent the rest of the night thinking," Natasha said, privately wondering if all men were immature teenagers at heart.

"It wouldn't be the first time Thor kept a beautiful woman up late," he commented, giving her a back-handed compliment, "Though it would be the first time she laid awake thinking of me afterwards." He had the smuggest expression too, though she suspected it was for show.

"You're as bad as Tony," she accused. "Back to the subject though, why are you still bruised up? Thor's already healed, that disgusting bastard." Loki gave a surprised chuckle at that, before gesturing with his handcuffs.

"Magic is not so dissimilar from energy," he explained. "These primitive – though effectual – devices ensure that any abnormal amount of energy called upon will be effectively counteracted with a rather nasty shock." Natasha noted that he didn't sound particularly angry about it, which puzzled her.

"So you don't heal naturally like Thor?" she prodded. Loki seemed more inclined to answer the inconsequential questions. But there was always the chance he'd reveal something important by accident.

"Oh, I do, usually," the Trickster said blithely. "The apples of Iðunn are what give us our immortality. For obvious reasons, I have not partaken of any recently, so my body is a touch slower in its healing process than normal." He seemed about to say something else, but stopped himself.

"Sure that's the only reason? Hulk wasn't too much for you?" she goaded, curious as to what he'd left out. Loki sighed.

"Even a god may tire, Agent Romanoff," he said, for the first time sounding like he'd just failed in the hostile takeover of an entire planet.

"I guess conquering the world takes a lot out of you, huh?" she noted unsympathetically.

"_Attempting_. Actually conquering, I think, might not have been so difficult," Loki admitted wryly, remaining unperturbed.

"So Thor was right? You weren't really trying?" she said almost to herself, though loud enough for him to hear. He shot her a mildly irritated glare.

"Of course I was trying. I simply wasn't succeeding. It seems to be a gift of mine," he said curtly.

"Why not?" Natasha certainly knew now that he could have succeeded if he'd really wanted to.

"You tell me," Loki said tauntingly.

"I don't know, I wouldn't want to seem _presumptuous_," Natasha said brazenly.

"Such _cheek_. Go on then, ask your questions. Though I warn you now, I intend to disappoint you and leave you with more mysteries than answers," he said with a winning smile. Natasha narrowed her eyes.

"Okay then, first question: why are you being so compliant?" she shot back, thinking: _If someone had told me yesterday morning that Loki was capable of civil conversation after such a crushing defeat, I would have directed them to the SHIELD therapist for treatment of delusional optimism. _Loki gave her a dubious look as if to ask if that was really the best she could come up with.

"Would you prefer hostility?" he asked with rhetorical skepticism. "I am bored, Agent Romanoff, and you are keeping me occupied. Humor me."

"Well, as long as you're being so willing…" Natasha returned his skepticism – she highly doubted that was the only reason he was talking to her. "Why did you lead the Chitauri against earth?"

"I didn't," Loki said promptly. "I just opened the door. They did the invading bit. It's just as well. Their failure was not my own." _And it's like talking to Tony all over again… _Natasha fought not to sigh.

"You're splitting hairs Loki – you know what I meant… why did you open the door? What was your reason for coming here at all? What did you hope to gain? Why did you start a _war?" _

Loki gave her a longsuffering look and took on the airs of one explaining something to a child, "You mortals truly do not seem to grasp the concept of _god of chaos_…".

"Then why did this feel distinctly like the work of the _god-who-doesn't-know-what-the-hell-he's-doing-so-let's-throw-an-army-out-there-and-hope-they-win. _ Really, even Thor saw through it." She'd been hoping to get a rise out of him, but Loki didn't seem insulted at all, merely exasperated.

"My _other_ moniker is the god of mischief. Misdirection, trickery, and causing expressions that vary from confusion to fury are my specialties," he said with some patience, as if that should explain everything. It didn't. So Natasha called him on it.

"Still doesn't explain the army," the spy pointed out.

"I have no intention of explaining the purpose of the army," Loki retorted smoothly. "You may continue to believe they were a foil to my glorious reign, or merely a tool to further my goals, or even a ruse to distract your teammates. Believe what you will." The spy silently blessed her training for her infinite well of patience, otherwise the god would find himself _believing _that she could and damn well would strangle him for being so exasperatingly uninformative.

"Well then, since I'm not allowed to _force_ you to answer me, I'll ask the next question. How would you have made yourself king of the earth? I'm sure you're just dying to tell someone how amazing your plan was," she asked dryly.

"Perhaps one day I will _show_ you," he said, his eyes shining with mischief that made something in Natasha twitch. _But it did prove that he had another plan… unless he was bluffing. _

"You plan on coming back?" she asked with warning in her voice and violent promises in her eyes. Loki gave her a wicked grin.

"_Assuredly_."

"To cause us more grief?" _Not while I live._

"Absolutely, with great pleasure," he said with relish.

"I could stop you, here and now you know. I will not let you threaten my planet," Natasha assured calmly.

"You could do little to stop me, Agent Romanoff," Loki said carelessly, dismissing her threats with a wave of his hand. Natasha took that as a challenge, whipping a gun from inside her jacket faster than Loki could blink.

"I could put a bullet between your eyes," the assassin warned coolly.

"Then do it, knowing that you condemn the nine realms to Ragnarök," the god said benignly, with hardened eyes. He spread his hands as wide as he could, presenting his heart for a clean shot, daring her to follow through with her threat. Natasha's jaw clenched.

"I told you, I don't believe in that fate and destiny bullshit. Some prophecy or whatever won't stop me from using any means necessary to keep my world safe," she said seriously, her aim unwavering. Then Loki leaned forward to meet her gun with a depraved grin on his face that suddenly had Natasha believing wholeheartedly that _this _was the god of chaos.

"What _fire_. Let me assure you, Agent Romanoff, should you kill me now, _nothing_ will stop the downfall of the realms," Loki promised with such deadly conviction that a shiver thrilled up the spy's spine. "You would doom your world as you save it. The question is: which will you choose? Certain destruction, or the unknown variable of me?"

"I think you have those backwards. We know what you're capable of," Natasha returned calmly. Loki gave her a demeaning look.

"My dear Natasha, even _I_ do not know the extent of my capabilities," he said, regaining his sardonic edge. "Now put the weapon away, I do not threaten your world this day." Natasha didn't move.

"And if you come back?" she persisted.

"I'm sure you will be waiting for me as hostile and irate as ever," the Trickster said wryly. Natasha lowered the gun slowly, still watching the god warily. Then she slipped it back inside her jacket as if the whole exchange had ever happened.

"I'll let it go for now… But only because I have another question," she said, returning to their earlier dialogue. Loki nodded for her to go on and leaned back to his original relaxed position.

Natasha cleared her throat and asked, "Why did you let the Chitauri get destroyed? Thor's told us about a lot of your abilities. You could have vanished that missile into some tear in space no problem. Instead you let Tony blow up their entire ship. Why?"

"I was somewhat preoccupied at the time."

"With the Hulk?" Natasha said incredulously. "Don't give me that. You were healthy enough to get rid of the threat. But you didn't. And you didn't seem to care at all that your army was destroyed. Not exactly the behavior of someone attempting serious hostile takeover. So, explain."

"Such directness. You're spoiling the fun of the conversation. Are you not meant to coax me into answering your questions? Where is the subtlety? The games?" Loki sounded disappointed.

"Who says there aren't any? Stop dodging the question."

Loki sighed with forced toleration and said, "I did warn you that you would be disappointed, did I not? I did not dismiss the weapon because I did not need to. I knew your people would take care of it, even if it meant sparing their foe. You do not have the heart to sacrifice the lives of _innocents_ to destroy your true enemy. Or rather, your teammates do not." He gave her a menacing smile and continued, "If I recall correctly, you are exactly the type who would throw her ledger into a _river_ of innocent blood to serve a higher cause. Really, the only difference between you and I is what we consider cause enough to warrant the sacrifice."

"Somebody has to make the hard calls," Natasha said tensely, disliking the comparison Loki presented but finding herself unable to argue with it.

"How fortunate, then, that your man of iron found another course of action that worked out so perfectly in your favor," Loki said sarcastically. "Your city saved, your enemies destroyed, and your nemesis captured – really, you could not have asked for a more idyllic ending. Must you be so displeased with how perfectly this ended for you all?"

"I don't believe in happy endings," Natasha said, causing Loki to give her a falsely pitying look.

"Love, destiny, happy endings… is there anything you _do_ believe in?" He asked disparagingly.

_I believe that my gun can blow a hole through your head_, Natasha thought, seriously warming up to the idea. Aloud she said, "Those things are for children… I believe people have wants - things they _desire_… and they will do anything to see those desires satisfied. So Loki, what is it you _want_?" Loki contemplated for a moment, seeming to gravely consider her question… then he sighed.

"A bath would be delightful," he said wistfully. The spy shook her head in disgust.

"Are you incapable of taking anything seriously?" Natasha demanded irately. She saw his jaw clench ever so slightly and thought she might have hit a nerve. But then his eyebrows furrowed in an impressive impression of a kicked, pleading puppy.

"At the moment, Agent Romanoff, I am merely seeking some levity. Have pity on me, I am soon to face a fate worse than death," he said with a bit of dramatic plaintiveness. Natasha felt her exasperation dissipate but remained unimpressed by the display.

"Okay, we can lay off the interrogation if you answer one more question for me," she bargained reasonably.

"I make no promises," Loki reminded her. Natasha nodded in understanding and took a deep breath before asking:

"What's going to happen next?"

It was Loki's turn to appear unimpressed as he said, "A broad question, to be sure. Would you care to rephrase before I decide to give you an infuriatingly insufficient answer such as _Thor and I will leave for Asgard next_?" The spy felt her lips thin.

"There is no way you would have let yourself get captured so easily if you didn't have something else to fall back on. A backup plan? Another disaster set up? What is next in your bag of maniacal tricks Loki?" Natasha clarified somewhat frostily. Loki grinned, no doubt at seeing her angered.

"You may regret that you asked," he cautioned wickedly. Leaning forward, green eyes boring into her own, he expanded, "My next bout of trickery begins now. I challenge you to discover what will _happen next_. You have all the clues you need. If you can grasp my plan – and I _do_ have one – then you will never have to discover what I had in mind for your world. What say you, Agent Romanoff? Will you take my wager?" He offered her his hand, his smile turning decidedly unbalanced.

Natasha's first thought was: _What clues? _Before she considered the deal seriously. She lost nothing by taking the deal and failing, because if she refused, Loki would follow through with his plan anyway (though he wouldn't succeed if she had anything to say about it). By taking the bargain though… she could spare the earth from whatever machination Loki had in mind.

Before she could over-think what she was doing, Natasha took the Trickster's hand and shook it, sealing the deal.

_Why does this feel like I'm making a deal with the devil? _She thought with a sense of foreboding, the cliché suddenly seeming all too appropriate.

As if hearing her thoughts, Loki threw his head back and laughed.

* * *

The sun was starting to set and Natasha wasn't back yet. She'd been gone for almost four hours. And the knowledge made Clint edgy, though the beer was helping take care of that.

He'd taken up Thor's offer to chill out on the newly cleaned and prepped-for-repair balcony – not exactly his words but whatever – and was currently watching the city lights come on with the big Norse god. They'd called a break not too long ago, now that the Tower was relatively livable again. It was only temporary, Tony said, until New York was back on concrete and confidant feet again. With the amount of help pouring into the city from all sides, Clint didn't think it would be long before Loki was just a bad memory for the city. They were lucky – none of them had even met the psycho. And his best friend was currently _chatting _with said psycho.

Now, Clint didn't have any delusions about the particulars of Tasha's job. He knew that she put her life at risk on almost every mission she was assigned. But she had said it herself – this was monsters and magic and nothing they'd ever been trained for. Nothing _she'd_ ever been trained for.

And while Natasha didn't actively seek out the hard jobs (usually they were just given to her), Clint knew she enjoyed a challenge – something new that would test her abilities and not find her wanting. It was part personality, part coping mechanism for her, making a game out of her job. Growing up as a spy had left her with an unorthodox and dangerous sense of fun. And there was always that lingering fear in him that one day it would be more "fun" than she could handle.

He knew she could take care of herself, really, he did. Better than most in fact. Didn't stop him from worrying. And it didn't stop him from coming up with a thousand and one ways to kill, maim, and make Loki's life thoroughly unpleasant if Natasha seemed so much as put out when she got back.

It was just as well that he didn't mention these scenarios out loud, 'cause it looked like, while he'd been thinking about Tasha, Thor had been thinking about his brother. After all, the little shit seemed to be the only person to make the god of thunder's expression resemble the stormy skies he commanded. Mumbling about brothers being a general pain in the ass, Clint nudged the god beside him, careful not to startle him lest he fall off the edge of the balcony they were so precariously perched upon.

Thor stirred and glanced at him, offering a quick smile for his temporary zone-out moment.

"What're you thinking about?" Clint asked conversationally, trying to distract himself. Then he realized how stupid the question was because there was no way he could make a half decent conversation with Thor about his rat bastard brother. Not today. Thor seemed to understand without him saying it though.

"I do not think you wish to know, Agent Barton," Thor said apologetically, letting him off the hook with more diplomacy than Clint would have expected.

"Loki?" Clint said it like a statement. Thor nodded.

"Yeah, you're right, don't really want to know," Clint agreed. He cast about for another topic, his eyes landing on the Budweiser cans stacked behind them.

"How'd you like the beer?" he asked, nodding towards the pile. Thor's smile was a bit more genuine this time.

"It fulfills its purpose well – though one day you must try the mead of my house. Nothing else quite compares."

"You sure that stuff doesn't, I don't know, kill us mortals?" Clint jibed dryly.

"If you can drink half as well as you can shoot, agent Barton, I assure you, you would be most suited to the halls of Asgard," Thor grinned. Barton smiled at the praise.

"I might just take you up on that offer," Clint nodded, tipping back his own beer.

Head tilted back, though, he caught sight of the sky above, and froze.

"Hey Thor?" Clint said casually. "You mad right now?"

"No. Why?"

"Because those clouds look ten shades of unnatural," Clint answered, pointing directly above their heads. Thor's gaze followed his finger.

Both Avengers rose swiftly as the swirling, coal-colored clouds crackled with lightning and the wind picked up fiercely. Directly over the Tower.

Clint was about to make a break for his bow and saw that Mjölnir was already firmly grasped in Thor's hand, when the sky opened up in a blinding beam of light that slammed into the balcony not ten feet in front of them, nearly knocking him off his feet. It probably would have anyway, if not for Thor's other hand gripping his shoulder with enough force to bruise.

The archer knew exactly where he'd seen a portal like this before. Not even two weeks ago, though it felt like years. Loki had used the Tesseract to beam himself to Earth. It was just like this. It was happening again.

And as the light dissipated, Clint couldn't help but expect to see the god, the guy he'd called _sir, _walking toward him, all smiles and promises and lies all over again.

What he actually saw, though, was a tall brunette warrior woman in Asgardian armor, kneeling in the center of what looked like a Celtic designed scorch mark. Clint vaguely recognized her from the SHIELD reports from New Mexico. Beside him, Thor stiffened in surprise and then relaxed his battle stance completely.

"Sif?" the Norse god asked in confusion. "What brings you to Midgard?"

The woman raised her head, and maybe it was just a trick of the remaining energy sparking through the air, but for a moment she seemed to _flicker. _

"I have not much time," she said urgently, with the same distinct accent that Thor and Loki affected. "It took a great deal of energy for the Allfather to send me here." She rose, a nervous energy rippling through her as she sought out Thor's face.

Thor stepped forward looking as if he'd like to embrace her, but her grave expression gave him pause.

"Sif, what is it?" Thor asked seriously. Clint moved to back him.

"The Allfather needs you and Loki home," Sif reported. "There is unrest stirring in the realms, and your father wishes you back with all haste – as soon as you can leave."

"What has happened?" Thor asked, no, commanded. Clint had never heard the kind of authority he was hearing now. But then, he was the prince and a _god_, after all.

"There is not time enough to explain, the portal will reopen in mere moments," Sif said, glancing at the still-swirling clouds over them. "Your father will explain all upon your return." Lightning crackled.

"We will depart as soon as we are able," Thor assured, though his brows were now deeply furrowed. Sif nodded and before anything else could be said, the sky lit up again and beams of energy surrounded her and she was gone as soon as she'd come, leaving only smoke and questions in her wake.

Thor and Clint took one look at each other before hurrying into the Tower.

Following behind Thor, Clint took one more look at the sky. And his sixth sense, honed over years of war and combat, sent chills of foreboding running down his spine.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys, I hope you liked the new chapter (I made it extra long because I took so long). Literally, this will be the hardest chapter that I've ever written because of Loki and Natasha and their stupid complexity. But after this, it should flow much more smoothly. And if Loki seems a little OOC, there's a _really _good reason for it that I think you guys will like ;) Also, as a new writer to FF I had a couple questions, if you guys wouldn't mind answering.

To respond to reviews, do you do it with PM or respond within the story itself? (I've seen both done, but was wondering which was more appropriate).

And if I want to go back and change something (say, an error in one of my chapters), will it replace the entire document (including comments etc.) or is it easily adjustable?

Thanks!

TOCB


	4. Plans Gone Awry

**A/N: Another long chapter for my marvelous readers :) Guys, seriously, this is the longest thing I've ever written. I'm way more prone to one-shots, and I _thought _this one would be kinda short too... ha, ha, haaa... NO. Oh well, please enjoy!**

**Oh, and keep in mind, all these poor characters are running on very little sleep, so the frustration level is high ^^; Kind of like me, 'cause this chapter gave me hell XP**

**Disclaimer: I own none of this (except the plot idea *which I almost wish I didn't XD*)**

* * *

Chapter Four: Plans Gone Awry

When Natasha returned to the Tower, she found it abandoned. A note left in the chicken scratch that was Tony Stark's handwriting explained that the boys had an E.T. visitor wanting Loki and Thor to return to Asgard ASAP and they'd gone straight to Fury about it. Likely, she had just missed them.

Cursing in Russian, she pulled out her cell phone and called Clint. He picked up after two rings and in quick, concise sentences, told her what had happened. Apparently, after the Asgardian had appeared, Thor and Clint had decided to go to the director – Thor to demand the instant release of his brother and the Tesseract, and Clint to make his report and keep Thor from freaking out. Tony had decided to tag along and dragged Steve and Bruce with him. Currently, they were all on their way back in a quinjet with approval to depart first thing in the morning for the Asgardians and a stern lecture from Fury about _not _stampeding his office when he was up to his eyeball in paperwork from _their _mess, and the consequences that would follow should they choose to ignore his warning. Clint assured her he would tell her more when they got back, which would be within the next twenty minutes or so, after they picked up some dinner for everyone.

Hanging up, Natasha felt the beginnings of a headache forming behind her eyes. She didn't like this at all. Under normal circumstances, she might write it off as a suspicious coincidence and treat it with proper care (which involved thorough research on the objects of suspicion, tailing of said objects, and even varying forms of interrogation if the situation called for it).

But these circumstances were far from normal. She had two god-like beings from another dimension – one being the crown prince of an alien race with enough raw power in his pinky finger to level a city, and with more love for his brother than was safe for any of them, and the other (said brother) being an unbalanced power-tripping master manipulator – _suddenly_ getting summoned home after said manipulator had told her he had another plan ready and raring to go. A plan that she would have to figure out without Thor's help (minus whatever she could get out of him tonight). She was sure Loki was cackling at her back in his cell.

Grimacing at the near audible laughter – which she'd had her fill of that afternoon – in the back of her mind, Natasha went to make herself a cup of tea and grab her "dangerous persons profile" notebook.

Thus equipped, she curled up in the corner of the plush leather couch she'd taken a shine to. Absently she noted that the floors had been cleaned and the window had a large plastic sheet across it as a temporary barrier until a new one could be made. It looked like the boys had been busy while she'd been off trying to get Loki to talk to her.

"_Attempting. Actually succeeding, I think, might not have been so difficult." _She remembered him saying (or something along those lines). Silently, she disagreed – she didn't feel like their meeting had been a success. For her, at least. Loki's shit-eating grin upon her departure would indicate the round had gone to him this time. Sadly, she agreed. And all her cool, calm control had dissipated into nursing wounded pride and trying not to be too damned vindictive over losing.

Shaking her head in irritation, she flipped through the pages of her notebook until she found Loki's section. She needed to get out as much as she could while her feelings and impressions were fresh in her mind… though she did have the tapes from both of their encounters for future reference.

First, Natasha started with the conversation – noting every exchange between them word for word so that she could examine them for double entendres, word choice, and implications that didn't quite seem to fit with the conversation's topic.

As she was writing out their dialogue, she could hear his every word spoken over again… which, while somewhat useful, was like rubbing salt in a wound at the moment. So, to take her mind off of the melodious monologue running through her mind, she started starring the parts she wanted to research or ask Thor and Barton questions about. And by the time she was finished, the twenty minutes had nearly passed and her tea had grown cold, as she'd been too wrapped up in thought to remember to drink.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she scowled at the last _long _paragraph dedicated to Loki's challenge to her. The spy was caught between thinking the offer was sincere, and sarcastically laughing at the thought of wasting what little optimism she had on the god of lies. Really, it was far more likely that he was just _messing _with her out of boredom. Something along the lines of, "let's tell the suspicious little spy that we have another diabolical plot in mind and offer her the safety of her planet in return if she figures it out – but in actuality, there is no plan, nothing, nada, zip. And oh, she'll agonize over it, wondering if I was being truthful or not, but will still force herself to go crazy looking for the clues I mentioned on the off chance I _was _being truthful about the plan and sparing her planet, because ohohohoho, I am the bad guy." Complete with evil laughter and maniacal moustache twirling. It was just the kind of psychological manipulation she had studied and could appreciate, though she found didn't quite appreciate being on the receiving end of it for once.

It was enough for her to want to wrench her hair in frustration and punch a Norse god in the face. His stupid, smug, slimy face.

But then, oh but then, she flipped back a few pages previous to the words, "_what better trick is there than to have people believe you do something for one reason and then prove them completely and utterly wrong about you?" _The man, god, giant, _whatever, _was literally a walking contradiction. Natasha suppressed a growl of impressed irritation.

That was how the boys found her when they entered bearing Chinese take out and expressions ranging from buoyancy (Tony) to edginess (Clint and Thor).

Banner gave her a questioning look, his uncanny perception for emotions (anger in particular) alerting him to her mental seething. She didn't bother hiding her irritated grimace as she nodded to the group. Clint headed straight over to her, and Thor, catching sight of her expression, shot her a commiserating smile as if to say _your feelings, I know them well. _Natasha conceded mental applause to him for dealing with Loki for so many years and still remaining sane.

The archer plopped down beside her, handing over her favorite fried rice with shrimp while inspecting her person for bodily injury and indication of her current mood.

"So, how'd it go?" Clint asked casually as Natasha pulled her plastic fork from the bag Steve offered her. The other Avengers dragged over the kitchen chairs to listen in.

Natasha directed her answer at Thor. "Your brother is infuriating," she said flatly. Thor snorted into his noodles, nearly choking on his laughter.

"Many would argue for a stronger word," Thor said when he'd recovered. Natasha agreed.

"They'd win that argument. Unlike me." The spy scowled. She hated admitting failure.

"Whaart?" Tony exclaimed around a mouthful of eggroll, his eyes comically wide in disbelief. Steve elbowed him to shut up.

"Let the lady talk," he reprimanded, gesturing for Natasha to continue uninterrupted. Obviously, Steve had not interacted with Tony enough. Otherwise, he'd know, while the thought was appreciated, the objective was hopeless.

"I need to ask Thor and maybe you" – a nod to Clint – "some questions," Natasha said after a bite of rice. She motioned with her fork to the others, "You guys can listen in and offer _helpful _commentary" – a pointed look was thrown at Tony – "Since we don't have as much time as I thought, we're going to have to figure this out tonight. I can fill you guys in on the rest later." Stabbing a piece of chicken with a bit more ferocity than was entirely necessary, Natasha let the fork stand and flipped through the now many pages of Loki's bio until she reached the end, where she'd made the list of questions she needed to ask.

Glancing up at the boys, she saw she had their undivided and sober attention. Good, that's what she needed… though she suspected Tony's compliance was gained by a foot full of justice squashing his toes.

Clearing her throat, Natasha read off the first note she'd left herself, "Loki mentioned Ragnarök a couple of times. I only vaguely remember that from my history classes as the Norse form of Armageddon. Care to elaborate?" She looked up to see Thor's brow furrow in uneasy concern.

"In what context did my brother speak of it?" He asked cautiously, setting his plate of food aside. Natasha had a feeling that was a tell that Thor was serious.

"He said that if he were killed right now, the nine realms would fall into chaos. That Ragnarök hinged upon him." She flipped to the page where she'd written down what he said. "Here it is, he said: Did Thor not tell you that I am destined to bring about the end of Asgard? That when all is said and done, Asgard will fall to its knees before me, willingly or not? Ragnarök hinges upon me_." _She looked up in time to see Thor's mouth hanging open in shock… which was definitely not the reaction she had anticipated.

"That is a lie," Thor protested loudly. Natasha arched both eyebrows, and Tony snorted.

"Were we expecting honesty?" Clint commented dryly. Natasha shushed him with a glance.

"So what's up with this whole Ragnarök deal then?" Natasha asked. Thor's lips thinned and his fists clenched.

"It is the end of my people. Of that, there is no doubt," he said tightly, with the same conviction Loki had. "I do not know what you Midgardians have chronicled in your histories of our visits long ago, but I would not trust them for their accuracy. Many of our tavern tales got… out of hand, back then." Thor's eyes had clouded over in memory and suddenly Banner stood to pace, a concentrated expression on his face. He began spinning his spoon across his fingers, his mind obviously mulling over the problem. Curious, the spy let the doctor do his thing while she turned her attention back to Thor.

"So what will really happen at Ragnarök?" She queried, pulling the god from what were obviously better times, judging by the way he slowly shook his head and the sadness that showed in his eyes.

"My mother is gifted with the Sight," he explained solemnly. "She sees visions of what is to come… and none yet have been avoided. Ragnarök is one such vision. It is a vision of fire, death and the end of the gods and of Asgard."

"What part does Loki play in it?" Natasha asked, feeling her guts churn at the thought of anything being able to take down Thor, let alone _all_ of the gods. Thor's eyes tightened at her question, obviously upset.

"He will die. As will we all. That is Ragnarök."

"No specifics? Nothing saying Loki is significant to its beginning or end?" The spy prodded, but Thor was shaking his head.

"Nothing so detailed as that. It is simply that we will perish."

They fell silent for a moment before Bruce's spinning spoon and pacing suddenly halted, his eyes going wide.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" He muttered, almost to himself. Natasha went on full alert.

"What's obvious?" She, Tony and Clint prodded at the same time. Bruce looked startled for a second before carding his fingers through his hair, gathering his thoughts. Then he continued slowly.

"Well, if I'm right… I mean, think about what Loki said: 'Ragnarök hinges on me'. When you take away the prophetic elements, all Ragnarök is, is the destruction of Asgard and the death of the gods, right? So maybe what he meant was that something would happen, involving him, that would bring that about." Natasha's eyes widened slightly.

"He said if he died, the nine realms were doomed," she said, the clues clicking into place.

"Assuming he was being truthful," Clint said skeptically. "He could just be trying to save his own hide. I wouldn't put it past him." Surprisingly, it was Steve who shook his head.

"Why would he make such a broad statement as '_I'm going to be the end of the worlds_' without having a reason?"

"His reason could have been to mess with our heads and make us worry over nothing," Tony commented.

"I do not think so," Thor said thoughtfully. "Loki only ever sent fools chasing their tails in search of an answer to his riddles. But I believe my brother sees Lady Natasha as a worthy adversary. He would not wish for such a hollow victory against her."

"Oh goodie, the bad guy likes you Nat," Tony teased. Clint looked serious though.

"So Loki's death is going to bring about the end of the worlds?" Clint clarified, sounding mildly disappointed. "How would he know that? And why would he say Thor knew it? Why make up all that bullshit about it being his destiny?" Banner was the one who answered him.

"Well, maybe Loki wanted Natasha to talk to Thor," he reasoned. "Maybe he mentioned Thor specifically so Natasha would ask him questions."

"But that would mean Loki _wasn't_ the reason for our close encounter this afternoon – which we all kind of assumed," Tony pointed out. "He would have _wanted_ to give Nat the chance to talk to his brother. Messing stuff up in the universe at large could have gotten them both warped home before she had that chance." The others nodded, processing this bit of information. Steve frowned as a thought came to him.

"That still leaves us with a Loki whose death will cause us problems," he reminded them. "So the question is, why would Loki's death be so important?" Natasha noted that Thor looked a little green at the continual mentions of Loki's demise. She felt for him, but it was unavoidable. Beside her, Clint shifted to look at Thor.

"Would Loki's magic still work in the event of his death?" He asked suddenly.

"No. His magic is tied to his life. His magic _is _his life," Thor answered, giving Clint a questioning look. Then his brows cleared.

"It indicates another," the god realized aloud. Clint nodded.

"If Loki doesn't have some spell set up in for after he's gone, then it's going to be someone else causing the destruction," Clint clarified for those with bemused expressions.

"So who, other than Thor, would be mad enough about Loki dying to want to destroy everything?" Tony quipped. Natasha worried her lower lip in thought and flipped forward a few pages in her notebook.

"He made a point about being killed '_right now' _dooming everything… which means the threat is more… immediate," she commented, glancing at Thor. "Are there any threats to Asgard at the moment?"

"And why would Asgard being destroyed effect the rest of the universe?" Tony added skeptically.

"There are always threats to Asgard," Thor said, "Because Asgard keeps the peace between the realms. If we fall, the other realms will go to war, and those worlds caught in between will be rendered casualties. It would not be long before absolute anarchy reigned."

"And Mr. Chaos wouldn't want this because…?" Tony asked dubiously. Natasha thought back to her conversation between them. Even if her context had been incorrect (since Loki wasn't really the trigger to Armageddon in the way she'd assumed), he had still admitted to wanting to be the one who caused chaos for the Asgardians. In light of this new revelation, it would seem that some third party was vying for that honor. Loki would not like that.

"Loki wants to be the one to mess with them," she said, echoing their earlier conversation. "Aside from the fact that the chaos would apparently cost him his life, Loki doesn't want somebody else butting in on what he considers his turf."

"Aww, the little psycho does care, in his own twisted way," Tony feigned a sappy expression that Thor didn't seem to appreciate.

"Have care, Stark," he rumbled, warning in his eyes. It was a testament to his anger that he only used Tony's last name.

"All right, everyone calm down," Steve said reasonably, shooting the other two men warning glances. "Helpful comments, remember?" Natasha gave him an appreciative smile before summarizing their findings.

"So what we have is this: If Loki dies, someone is going to attack and try to destroy Asgard. We don't know who it is, and we don't know why they'd do it. We also don't know if Loki is lying about this. We don't think Loki is the one responsible for whatever has caused Odin to summon him and Thor home, because he wanted to give me an opportunity to question Thor. Okay so far?" Natasha arched her eyebrows at the others. They nodded.

"So it's in our interest to keep the little sh- _Loki _alive?" Clint said casually, though Natasha could tell he wasn't pleased about the notion.

"It would seem so," the spy agreed. "Now for the next question. Thor, you said you don't know much about the Chitauri race, but I need you to really try and remember, because Loki said something very interesting. He said he wasn't the one leading them – that he only opened the door. So now the question is: will whoever _was _leading them come back?"

"I can actually answer that one," the archer said quickly. Thor seemed relieved, so Natasha gave Clint her attention.

"When I was under Loki's… employ, I guess… while we were in Germany, he went into some kind of catatonic trance for a few minutes. I, being the loyal zombie I was, asked him what happened a little while later. Loki said he'd met with the General of the Chitauri army and the guy was getting impatient for the Tesseract."

"Just the Tesseract?" Natasha clarified. Clint shrugged.

"Well, yeah. Apparently the deal really was the Tesseract for the Army. So they shouldn't have a reason to come back here. Unless they want revenge or something. But I think it's more likely they'd want revenge against Loki than us."

"Why do you think that?" Natasha pressed.

Clint's eyes clouded over in memory and he frowned, glancing at the other spy. "Loki mentioned someone very powerful being pissed if he failed to get the Tesseract. But…" he paused, his frown deepening. Natasha nudged his knee with hers and he continued.

"I'm no expert on Loki's behavioral patterns, but he did seem less like he was bullshitting when we were all his minions. So, I could be wrong, but it seemed like Loki was looking forward to pissing off whoever this powerful person was. Like when you prank someone knowing that they're going to be _furious _about it, but it'd all be worth it because of the look on their faces." _The looks on their faces are hysterical. You probably know better than most what I mean._

"It kind of makes me wonder, though, if he ever intended on handing over the Tesseract," Clint continued, "Somehow, I don't think so. And if those Chitauri guys knew that Loki duped them, they'd go after him, not us. At least, that's what I'd do."

"I agree," Thor said seriously. "I cannot see my brother giving up so much power so easily."

"Yeah, 'cept he _did," _Tony pointed out. "To us. So what's the play? He'll give up the Tesseract to us, and by default Thor, but not to the Chitauri? What's in it for him, other than a one-way trip back to Asgard and whatever punishment they come up with?" Tony grimaced and got up to get himself a drink, apparently having had enough speculation for the moment. Natasha subtly caught his eye and he nodded, snagging two glasses instead of one.

"But did he really give it up?" Bruce mused aloud. "I mean, we have it and we have him and they're both going back to Asgard with Thor tomorrow… but Loki's not all-powerful, it might not have been the outcome he'd intended." Thor gave a half grimace, half smile to the doctor.

"You would be surprised how often Loki gets his way without your knowing," he commented as if he was very experienced in such occasions. Natasha bet he was.

Tony wandered back over, handing Natasha her cherry vodka while he nursed his own dark brandy.

"So once again, we're stuck with not knowing whether his horniness was bluffing or not," Tony remarked sarcastically. "This is getting us nowhere, you know." He made a broad gesture to the occupants of the room with his half empty glass. "I mean seriously, we're sitting here trying to dissect the words of a guy whose life is dedicated to _lying _and pull a little bit of truth from it without knowing which is which. And for what? He'll be gone tomorrow and won't be coming back any time soon if Thunderbrother and daddy dearest have anything to say about it."

Natasha sighed and decided it was about time to tell them of the bargain she'd struck with Loki.

"We have to figure it out, because I made a deal with Loki," Natasha began, but Tony whirled on her all incredulous indignation.

"You made a deal with a god? With _Loki? _Historically bad idea, Nat!"

"He made me an offer I couldn't quite refuse," Natasha said in exasperation. "He offered a sort of amnesty for Earth if I figured out what his next plan was. That's why we're going to keep talking about this until I know what he's up to."

"And you trusted him?" Steve asked, his sensibilities obviously pricked at making a deal with the enemy. Natasha gave them all a hard look, reminding them who the master spy in the room was.

"Loki said he would come back. He said he had his own plan for Earth – the one he would have used if not for the Chitauri. He promised, on a whim I'm assuming, to spare Earth whatever plan he had for it if I was smart enough to work through what he'd said and come up with what he intends to do next. There was no downside, because he'd come back anyway, whether I decided to take his deal or not." Across from her, Thor stiffened.

"How, _exactly_, did my brother phrase his wager?" Natasha arched an eyebrow but flipped to the page of that conversation.

"He said: 'I challenge you to discover what will happen next. You have all the clues you need. If you can grasp my plan – and I do have one – then you will never have to discover what I had in mind for your world.'" Natasha's eyes narrowed in thought before it hit her. Clint voiced what she'd just realized.

"Well, for one, his wording leaves him free to use a _different _plan on us, if he wants to," the archer said. "It also gives him leave to do whatever he wants once you're dead, since he specified _you." _Natasha cursed for not having seen the loopholes earlier, no matter that she would have seen them eventually. Thor, however, seemed relieved.

"It could have been far worse," the Norse god commented. "This is by and far the bluntest bargain I have ever heard of my brother making."

"Only two vague points in the fine print of a bargain for Earth's safety, of course we should be jumping for joy because it could have been worse," Tony said sardonically before rising, dropping his empty brandy glass on the table with a _clank_. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm heading to bed, 'cause personally, I think reindeer games is going to do whatever the hell he wants anyway. See you guys first thing in the morning." He grumbled that last bit before exiting up the stairs to his room. Natasha shot a questioning glance at Clint, but it was Steve who answered.

"He's just a little shaken up. He got a call from Ms. Potts – it looks like she won't be returning until tomorrow, with all the chaos in the airports right now. Plus…" Steve paused and took a deep breath. "Fury told us… Coulson's funeral will be the day after tomorrow. I don't think Tony took it well." Natasha nodded in understanding. She didn't think _any _of them were taking Coulson's death well. Least of all her. Coulson had been one of her few genuine friends, and in the madness of the last few days, she hadn't let herself feel the pain of his loss. If Loki had anything to truly answer for, Coulson's death was it. And he would find himself very much on her bad side if he really was just messing with her head – if he had no intention of keeping his bargain. She would have no reason then to hold back. In her darker days, Natasha knew more than a few things about killing slowly, intimately, in every way a person could fear. Whatever punishment the Asgardians could come up would look like a cakewalk to what she would do.

"How long do Asgardian punishments usually last?" She asked crisply, still mad at herself for missing Loki's ambiguity and for the reminder that Coulson had died at Loki's hands. As if reading her mind, Clint nudged her ribs and gave her a reproving glance that told her not to blame herself. Then he made a miniature impression of a horned helmet followed by the act of shooting an arrow – silently offering to shoot Loki for her. She couldn't help but give a grudging smile. Then Thor was answering her question.

"It is usually dependent on the severity of the crime committed," he said, tightness showing at the corner of his bright blue eyes. Natasha was reminded again of how hard this was going to be on Thor, and she wondered if she should simply try to analyze Loki's plot by herself so she could spare him some of the pain. But Thor continued, though she felt it was more from duty than anything else. "Loki's punishment will be different, however, since he is a prince of Asgard and he attempted to invade a world and subjugate a race under the protection of Asgard. His punishment will not be light, and it will not be over swiftly."

"I thought royalty usually got off easy?" Clint asked, keeping his voice neutral, but Thor was shaking his head.

"I do not know what customs Midgardians now have for their leaders, but on Asgard, the royal family is an example to the people. We are judged under the same rules as any of our subjects would be – and often times more strictly, as the consequences of our actions could cost the lives of millions, rather than that of a few. I myself was banished for seeking a fight with Frost Giants, where any other might have been imprisoned for a few decades for such an act. Because, as a prince of Asgard, my actions spoke for _all_ of the Æsir. Loki is no different."

The others fell silent at that, contemplating, for once, the pressure of being royalty to an entire race that kept balance in the universe at large.

"So Loki's punishment could last longer than we live, making his deal moot?" Clint asked finally. Thor nodded slowly.

"It is possible," he admitted, looking at Natasha with something akin to sympathy. "I am sorry Natasha, but I fear the Iron Man is correct – it may be more profitable for your peace of mind to simply forget my brother's wager. I myself will do my utmost to ensure he does not return to Midgard."

Natasha clenched her jaw and scowled, thinking.

"You said he wanted to challenge me though," she reminded him.

"No doubt he did, but you do not have to accept the challenge if you do not wish to," Thor said kindly. Beside her Clint snorted.

"Oh, now you've done it," the archer muttered, eliciting an elbow in the ribs from the Russian. But for Thor, she would drop her questions… She could review her notes and videos later.

"I guess you're right," she said nonchalantly, though Thor didn't seem convinced. Too many years living with Loki, Natasha figured. She stood, picking up her now cold rice (first her tea, then her rice) and made her way to the kitchen under the pretense of reheating it, silently vowing to win Loki's wager, with or without help.

* * *

_The next morning…_

The day of their departure dawned with a fey beauty that made Thor feel marginally better about being the cause of a tumultuous deluge the night before. He truly was not one for waiting – for patience. The miniature rivers flowing through the gutters of the city were testament of his anxiety to be home.

However, now that their leave-taking was drawing nigh, Thor felt a different kind of anxiety coiling in his gut. The wretchedly cold and consuming fear for his brother's fate.

Which is why he found himself outside Loki's cell near an hour before the appointed time of meeting, bearing a few items for his brother – a harmless bowl of water and cloth to wash up with since he knew how Loki hated feeling begrimed for any length of time.

A moment later the guards allowed him entry and Thor took a deep, bracing breath before stepping over the threshold of Loki's prison.

He had not yet visited his brother in this place, but the instant he entered, he knew Loki hated it, never mind that it was comfortable enough for a cell. The sheer lack of anything to do combined with the blandness of the white walls would have set his brother's teeth on edge. It was no wonder he had spoken to the Black Widow at such length – any distraction would be seen as a boon to Loki's ever-wandering mind.

Thor would almost condemn his brother to this cell indefinitely, though, to avoid returning him to Asgard.

Shaking his head to clear it of such wishful thinking, Thor turned a smile tinged with sadness on his brother, who had risen and was giving him a look of such cold indifference over his muzzle that Thor's heart felt as heavy as Mjölnir in his chest.

"Brother," he acknowledged, unable to force a true smile, setting the basin and towel on the table, before making his way to Loki.

Loki did not budge, not when Thor came within touching distance, not when Thor gripped his shoulder in reassurance, and not even when Thor reached up and eased the gag off his face. Loki's expression was that of stone, and Thor fought back a sigh.

Running his fingers through his hair, Thor turned and collapsed into the desk chair, with little dignity and less concern. Absently rubbing his beard, he studied his brother.

Thor knew, now, that he had wronged his brother over the ages. Slighting him for his choices, belittling him before those he might have called friends, always acting as if Loki was _weak. _The list, regrettably, went on. Loki had so easily returned the offenses with his wicked tongue that it had been simple to assume he was never injured by his brother's cruelty. This cold creature before him though, revealed that it was not so. That the injuries had run deep indeed, and had given rise to a different person, whose motivations were as much a mystery as the secrets of Yggdrasil. Thor could only hope that his brother would allow him a chance to set their relationship right.

As if reading Thor's thoughts, Loki offered what would have been a genial smile if not for the deadness in his eyes and simply said, "Thor," in acknowledgment. Still, it was better than Thor had hoped for – better than silence.

"I have brought you a washing cloth," Thor said, gesturing to the bowl, half hoping Loki would mock him for stating the obvious. But Loki simply nodded, making no move towards the offering, though he surely wished to have his cuts cleaned and the dirt removed from his face. Thor's jaw tightened.

"We will be leaving this morning, brother," he said after a moment of silence. Loki gave no reaction except to nod again.

"Will you not speak with me brother?" Thor asked, trying not to sound pleading. He felt the deep aching loss of his brother's spirit now as keenly as he had in the days after his brother's fall. There was a long pause.

"What would you have me say?" Loki asked finally.

_Anything, _Thor thought gravely. Aloud he sighed and said, "Truly brother? I would have you unburden yourself to me. To tell me what happened to you after your fall and why Heimdall could not find you. I would have you listen to me apologize to you as many times as it takes to know that I am truly sorry for the wrongs I have committed against you in my arrogance and stupidity. And I would have you tell me what I could possibly do to earn a second chance to be the brother I so obviously failed to be the first time around."

That, it seemed, garnered a reaction. Loki was staring at him intensely, which was a far cry better than the apathy of before. Finally, he gave a small smirk, though it was tainted with malice.

"If I had but known all it would take for you to see the error of your ways was a terrorizing escapade through your precious Midgard, I would have done it a millennia ago," he said acerbically, causing Thor to wince.

"Brother, I am sorry-" Thor began, but Loki cut him off.

"Do not waste your breath apologizing Thor," Loki said scornfully. "There may yet come a day when we resolve the many faults that plague our ill-formed family, but it is not this day. There is too little time to do the discussion justice, wouldn't you agree?" It was Thor's turn to nod as he felt the first stirrings of hope to salvage their relationship.

"Now," Loki continued sharply, "You said we depart today? Why?"

"Father has summoned us home as a matter of great urgency," Thor said, regaining his more confidant demeanor in their apparent truce. "It seems there are threats stirring against Asgard." Loki's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before he shook his head as if storing information away for later examination.

Thor wondered at Loki's confusion, but let it go when his brother gave him a '_well, go on' _look and said, "Well, go on – you came here for reasons other than offering apologies you knew I would not accept and informing me of the minor change in our itinerary." Despite his words, Thor was gratified to see Loki walk over to the water bowl and begin washing his face.

Clearing his throat to hide his smile, Thor said, "As usual, you are correct brother. I do have questions, in light of your recent encounter with Agent Romanoff."

"Is that so? By all means, ask away," Loki said a little more calmly, though Thor couldn't tell if it was due to mention of Natasha or from the cool water he was currently splashing across his face. He assumed it was a combination of the two.

"Agent Romanoff came back… quite frustrated with you, brother," Thor said, trying for some levity between them. "Your bargain with her… is it genuine?"

"That is for her to discover," Loki said with a hint of smugness.

"I fear you may have met your match, brother, for I do not think she will cease pondering over your puzzle until she has solved it," Thor admitted wryly. He'd seen the look in Natasha's eyes the night before – it was one he'd seen all to often reflected in Loki's. She would not stop her search until she had her answers.

"Perhaps. Some of us do enjoy challenges of the mind, Thor," Loki said neither jokingly nor unkindly.

"Believe me, brother, you challenge my mind on a daily basis," Thor muttered darkly, eliciting the dry snort he'd been hoping for. Thor dared not point out that they were verging on being civil with one another lest he break their tenuous truce.

Thor sighed and opted for a topic of more immediate concern for the two of them, saying, "Sif came yesterday" – Loki stiffened in surprise, confirming some of Thor's thoughts on the matter – "And no matter that she said father sent her, I know how much energy it would take to send her here without the use of the Bifrost. Heimdall should have known that we would return within the week. So it would seem the threat is so immediate that father could not wait that long for our return. From your warnings to the Black Widow, I thought you might know what this new threat to Asgard is." Loki seemed to seriously consider for a moment before shaking his head.

"I know not what could threaten Asgard at the moment," he said slowly.

"It is not the Chitauri?" Thor asked. "I may not be very knowledgeable of their society, but I would have thought their armies larger than the one Tony Stark described." Loki glared at the mention of his former associates before sighing with an extreme show of tolerance.

"After your experience on Earth, would you truly call the Chitauri a force that could reckon with the Æsir?" Loki said mockingly. "Humans, of course, would hardly challenge them, but it would take millions of them to pose a threat to the likes of Asgard."

"If they were so unworthy, why promise them the Tesseract?" Thor countered knowingly. Loki shot him a glare.

"Surely your opinion of me is not so low that you believed I would actually give away the Tesseract so lightly."

"Of course, brother. And that is why I wonder what they tempted you with that had you even feigning such a promise, rather than laughing in their faces outright," Thor said, a hint of accusation in his voice.

"Perhaps I simply enjoy raising hopes so that I may crush them underfoot with greater satisfaction," Loki said with a shrug. "It has certainly been a successful tactic with you." Thor frowned at that, reaching into his pocket to finger the other item he had brought with him. Slowly he withdrew the knife Loki had stabbed him with atop Stark Tower. He'd found it, the day before, whilst cleaning the balcony. Least to say, it did not bring back happy memories now.

"Crushing hopes?" he repeated softly. Fingering the weapon now, Thor cast Loki a searching glance, but found neither regret nor satisfaction. He knew not whether Loki had enjoyed raising Thor's hopes so high before shaking them so badly. He knew better than to ask. But he did still have a question.

"Why did you not aim for the heart?" Thor asked bluntly, holding up the dagger for Loki to see. "This whole time, this entire charade, you could have struck a killing blow. Stolen the Tesseract without detection, razed Earth to the ground without letting Heimdall know until too late, killed me with a blow only a few inches higher. Why did you not?" His blue eyes bored into Loki's green until the latter looked away.

"In time, perhaps you will see, Thor," Loki said carefully, his eyes flickering to the door. "It seems though, that our meeting has come to an end. Someone approaches."

Thor heard the tromp of feet as well, but chose to ignore them, instead striding forward and catching Loki's arm, forcing his brother to look at him.

"Listen brother, if there is some other plan to this – some other reason for all this destruction, I will gladly petition father for a lenient sentence, but I cannot do so on suspicion alone. Please, tell me what you hoped to gain from this, what your plan was!" If Thor had been trying not to sound desperate before, he was failing now. And for all that, Loki's answer was a slow grin and a prideful retort.

"Believe it or not _brother, _I have no need of your aid. Not this time."

Then the SHIELD agents came and Loki refused to utter another word as the gag was shoved back in his mouth and they were ushered to the point of departure.

* * *

Loki had been expecting Thor to visit at some point before their departure to Asgard. Perhaps not quite so soon… but expecting nonetheless.

In his mind, he had pictured Thor barging in, much as he had little over a year ago upon his return to Asgard, demanding answers and flinging accusations as casually as he did his damnable hammer. It was simply Thor's way, to face problems head on. After all, as hard as his head was, it usually won. This time, however, had been different… Thor had been… gentle.

Loki had noticed before, of course, that Thor was less rash… that he sought to at least speak with Loki before they resorted to blows. He found himself at somewhat of a loss as to how to deal with this change. After all, his plan did hinge on certain people acting in accordance to their typical nature. Thor included.

And possibly, Loki felt… angered by this new Thor.

It was a foolish and useless thing to be angered by, but the thought that this person - his once brother - had become a stranger to him in his absence, caused a deep, irrational rage to stir in Loki's heart.

The worst part was, this new Thor, this humbled and wiser Thor, was the person Loki had always wanted his brother to become. _This _was the Thor who possessed the potential to rule Asgard with a firm hand, judicious council, and an understanding heart. He had seen hints of this Thor before their fight on the Bifrost, but Agent Romanoff had been right in saying that Loki's anger had reached a breaking point at the time. He had seen the difference, but refused to acknowledge it.

And again, throughout this entire debacle on Midgard, Thor had tried so very hard to reason with him, but this time, Loki noticed and had the chance to wonder: what had happened to Thor, that made him show his vulnerabilities? His faults? To _apologize _for Odin's sake. Thor had _never _been one to speak so openly of his weaknesses and mistakes – often he would claim that he never had them and never made them.

But… it was possible that was changing. Thor had caught on to Loki's deception, which was just as he had planned. What he hadn't accounted for was feeling something akin to _guilt _in regards to what would happen next. Thor was supposed to be suspicious. He was supposed to return Loki for punishment. And he was damn well supposed to feel _wretched _about it in the end. This episode with the heart-felt apology and achingly familiar comradery had never factored into Loki's plan. Thor, it would seem, had decided to belatedly and with ill timing become aware of his wrongdoings, and _earnestly_ wished to make amends with his brother. Loki experienced something like disbelieving exasperation at the thought that Thor was once again throwing his carefully laid plans into disarray and wondered vaguely if their titles had somehow been confused. After all, Thor consistently caused utter chaos in Loki's life, and he made it look so _effortless_.

Oh and _speaking _of chaos, here was Thor's broken little company – the ones who called themselves Avengers. In his time of reflection, it would seem they had all arrived in a park of sorts, to speed Thor on his way and ensure Loki was well and truly gone. Their arrogance might have grated had it not been precisely the reaction he had hoped for. It was all he could do not to grin at them. To force himself to appear defeated and dejected before Midgard's would-be heroes.

Then Thor was taking hold of his arm and walking him into the clearing. Still playing the part of resentful younger brother, Loki wrenched his arm away without sparing Thor a glance. He knew the spy and perhaps his brother would see through the façade, but made a reasonable guess that the remaining warriors would be lulled into a sense of ease at his apparent unhappiness – his indication that all had not gone exactly and spectacularly as he'd intended.

It would make proving their assumptions wrong all the sweeter.

Though perhaps, they had earned a warning of sorts, that he was not as defeated as he appeared. They had, after all, destroyed the Chitauri's ship for him… maybe he owed them that much. A little fear to cool their hot heads in his absence. A chance to prepare themselves for the coming show… yes, he could give them that.

Suddenly he lifted his chin, and their conversations silenced as he caught their respective gazes one by one and promised each of them that he was down, but oh most _certainly_ was not out. He grinned, the apples of his cheeks lifting the muzzle to his glittering eyes as the atmosphere grew rigid with apprehension. Only the spy remained relaxed in the face of his threat, though he was not surprised. He saw her lean over to whisper to his completely stiff former servant, and whatever she said must have had the effect she wished for, for he grinned and the tension in his shoulders gave way, causing the spy to smile in return.

Loki felt a glare tighten the corner of his eyes, but dismissed it when Thor stepped in front of him, offering a sad smile and the other end of the container holding the Tesseract. Seeing the Tesseract now, Loki remembered how thoroughly unpleasant the first trip had been and was almost glad the gag hid his uncontrollable smirk. Thor would simply have to find out the hard way how different the experience was from that of the Bifrost or the hidden paths between worlds. As it was, Loki could not voice any sort of caution. Ah well, such a shame.

If he could describe the sensation, he would say it wasn't so dissimilar from being inside the Bifrost chamber as it charged, where the walls spun so quick as to appear unmoving. Except the walls were made of flashing, disorientating light, and instead of standing still, the person was spiraling counter-current to the walls. A sort of balance between the force and the object being transported. And the stretching, ah, it felt as if one's body was simultaneously being torn asunder and having the force of an ocean collapsing upon them. It was less than pleasant, but they did not trust him to create another portal, which would be far easier since they had the equipment already.

But no, Thor had opted for traveling straight along Yggdrasil's trunk from one branch to another rather than leap from limb to limb. Loki hoped he came to regret it. In fact, Loki would make sure of it. His glare at Thor made his intention for retribution known, but Thor simply raised his eyebrows and indicated Loki get a move on. The glare narrowed.

Taking hold of the proffered handle, Loki met Thor's eyes and offered a minuscule nod, affirming his readiness to be rid of this world. Thor, in turn, nodded his farewell to his comrades. Then Thor twisted his handle and the power spike between them radiated energy through them and around them and suddenly they were _moving_.

It was as he remembered – they were spinning uncontrollably fast, and Loki forced himself to focus on the only constant object he could to block out the nauseating effect of the travel: Thor. Blinding luminance flashed around them, and the ethereal currents crackled across their skin, raising hairs and making their blood race. The overwhelming power surrounding them pressed down as they traveled faster than energy itself across time and space and realms.

So concentrated was Loki on Thor that he almost didn't notice when the energy around them _hiccupped_, causing a tear on their course to Asgard. However, he immediately felt the alien presence reach into their path and disrupt the Tesseract's projection. It was sickeningly familiar and elicited a nausea that had little to do with the surroundings.

Before he could even begin to wonder how they had managed to find him whilst tearing across the universe, he saw a six-fingered hand take Thor by the shoulder. Then there was a colossal jerk as the Tesseract and Thor were wrenched away from him with force enough to break his fingers. And he felt a scream of '_NO!' _rip his throat as his world dissolved into vivid, careening, madness before it suddenly turned gold, making a small part of him wonder briefly if he had died and somehow made it to Valhalla, while the rest of him was bellowing for Thor and raging that _this was not right! _

Then he slammed into a very marble floor with enough force to shatter it and leave himself completely devoid of breath as he rolled several times before coming to a grudging and painful halt. As his breath returned, he groaned as pain blossomed across his landing shoulder, back and head, which had taken the brunt of the impact.

And when his vision ceased spinning and he came to his senses, he found that he was sprawled in a crater in the Great Hall of the Palace of Asgard. His body ached fiercely, his gag had gouged a deep laceration into his left cheek, and he was surrounded by surprised, _hostile_ Æsir in the middle of feasting.

And Thor and the Tesseract were nowhere in sight.

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope you guys liked it! Sorry there hasn't been a whole lot from Loki's POV so far - I've been super paranoid about giving away his plot in his thoughts. (Bonus points and virtual cookies to anyone if they can figure it out!) But yeah, from now on, it'll be primarily from Tasha and Loki's POVs.

MAY I SAY I AM SO HAPPY TO FINALLY GET TO THE ACTION?

'Cause I am ^,^

Also, I've had a couple of questions as to whether this is going to be a Loki/Natasha romance... The answer is: I think so. We'll see what the characters do. I know for a fact the sequel (if I ever get around to writing it) will be L/N romance. Either way, it'll be a slow growing thing, because both characters are stubborn, practical, and distrusting. Meaning they make my life _difficult._

Also, also: I hate to say this, but updates may become a little slower. I'll be studying abroad this Fall, and I'm brushing up on my second language in my spare time and getting all my classes in order and whatnot, which kinda cuts into my writing time. In case you guys haven't noticed, I'm a slow writer (mostly because it doesn't come naturally to me), so if I want to write, I usually take an entire afternoon to motivate myself.

Anyways, enough rambling. Next time on WoL: Loki and Odin have a talk and Thanos is _displeased._


	5. Brothers Asunder

**A/N: I grovel at your feet people. I am so sorry this took so long. Please go ahead and enjoy - there will be more comments at the end ^^;**

Chapter Five: Brothers Asunder

When he hit the ground, he hit it _hard. _

Thor felt the air slam out of his lungs like the Iron Man had plowed into his ribs again. Or maybe a raging bilge snipe. It was difficult to tell. A muffled grunt sounded from somewhere to his left, signaling that he had indeed been hit by someone or something that was an enemy until proven otherwise. Quickly he sucked in air – freezing, thin air that he had never tasted before – and dragged himself to his feet, blinking to clear the blackness from his vision. As his surroundings became discernible, Mjölnir snapped into his grip – just in time to block the clawing lunge of the strange creature that had snatched him from the Tesseract's path. One solid strike from his hammer sent the thing sprawling into the darkness, barely within the ring of light pulsing from the Tesseract. And, dropping into a battle stance, Thor used the momentary reprieve to take in the situation.

Surrounding him were the shadowy outlines of thousands of rock fragments, floating as if weightless through the pitch-black sky peppered with millions of stars – the only source of light other than the cube. Before him he could see at least a score of luminous eyes reflecting in the dim ethereal glow. Their glinting armored bodies stalked towards him and their guttural language made a low, screeching din in the empty space. The creature he had struck had regained its feet, baring its bloody teeth at the prince in malicious anger. Thor felt his grip on Mjölnir tighten so hard the leather handle creaked in protest.

Broadening his senses, he could detect near a score more of the creatures creeping across the shale strewn ground behind him, making it nearly forty to one. The warrior in him smirked in anticipation. He'd had worse odds.

The _brother _in him, however, was staving off the cold dread that was coiling in his gut. He could see neither hide nor hair of Loki. Could not sense his presence. And did not want to think about what could have happened to him in the turbulence and violence of being ripped from Yggdrasil's branches. Because if he fell… without a course, and without access to his own magic… Loki could be ripped to pieces by the sheer overwhelming ferocity that was the universe's core.

And Thor had vowed, when he discovered Loki lived, that he would never let his brother fall again. If Loki perished… if he was truly gone this time…

The creatures before him shifted, shaking him from his stricken thoughts. They were allowing the cloaked one he had struck to step forward, parting around him in deference. Thor focused in on the beast – his prey. This _thing _had torn him from his brother.

This _thing _would pay.

"Tell me where my brother is," Thor growled, voice straining with barely controlled anger, sparks shooting and arcing across his hands, "And I might reconsider parting your head from you shoulders."

The beast ignored him and signaled the others, quieting their incessant screeching long enough to issue one command.

"Kill him."

And like bilge snipe catching the scent of blood, they were suddenly streaking towards him from all sides, scrabbling and snarling to be the first to rend Asgardian flesh.

The Tesseract hit the ground at Thor's feet with a dull thud.

Taking quick breath, Thor whipped Mjölnir through the air - spinning it so fast it was barely visible.

Too close of quarters - he couldn't afford to let his weapon go for even a moment.

Barely any atmosphere – lightning would come slow or not at all. And there was no one to cover for him.

_The old fashioned__**, bloody**__ way then, _he thought savagely.

Then they were upon him and he was _among _them_. _

The first one swung hard at his face with a wicked looking pike. Thor ducked underneath the attack and came up under the beast's jaw with such force that its skull tore off and went flying. It was only when he came face to face with his next enemy – close and in the light of the Tesseract – that he fully saw what they were.

_Chitauri._

His body did not stop fighting even as his mind stuttered, and the second, third, and fourth enemies' heads soon followed the first's. Spinning, he regained his momentum and smashed Mjölnir into the chest of the Chitauri behind him, knocking three others out of his way in the process. He would deal with the _how _later. Now there was only fighting, surviving.

And fight he did. In close combat such as he hadn't done in a century. Soon, there was nothing but blood in his vision and shrieks in his ears, the cacophony of battle and fury roaring through his veins. Until another presence made itself known.

Power shuddered through the physical plain, causing even Thor in his vengeful rage to pause. His eyes, adjusted to the dark, scoured his opponents to seek out the source of such malice and command. Then his nostrils flared and he whirled hard, Mjölnir raised to strike down the creature behind him. But the towering figure moved with a frightening speed even greater than his own.

The cold tip of a spear touched his chest and an overpowering need to stand down invaded his senses, crippling his nerves before he could even think to resist. A voice that sounded at once like Odin and like his own reason cried for him to yield to such power, lest he be rent asunder. Thor soundly rejected such weak notions, and made to finish his attack. The air around him fairly crackled with his opponent's ire and the screaming in his head redoubled its clamorous barrage. Thor's step faltered.

Struggling to stand against the colossal will that was crushing his own, Thor barely got a glimpse of his attacker before it became too much. Then his knees buckled and his vision went completely white.

* * *

Dust obscured the figure sprawled upon the floor for but a moment. And for Sif and the other warriors, it was not a moment idly spent.

Before her vision had cleared, Sif had vaulted over the long table with her sword singing from its sheath. The next moment she had tackled Asgard's intruder back into the crater he had made. With the adrenaline reddening her vision, she only barely recognized the lost prince before she slit his throat.

"Loki!" she hissed in surprise. Her shock did not shift her sword from its position under his muzzle though. A swift survey of the Hall confirmed that the trickster was alone. "What is the meaning of this?" Sif snarled, pressing the blade harder under his jaw. "Where is Thor?" Loki's brows drew down in fury and he attempted to buck her off, but she braced her boots against the rubble surrounding them, thwarting his efforts. The blade drew blood at his struggles, and Loki stilled. Sif took the opportunity and used her other hand to grab him by the muzzle.

"If you have done anything to harm him, Borr as my witness I will strike you down into the farthest depths of Hel's foul realm," Sif swore, glaring down at him. Loki's eyes blazed with anger, but then a voice thundered across the halls.

"Enough! Sif, the prince is guiltless until proven false." Tyr was striding down the stairs of the king's dais, the spear of kings held easily in his left hand. At his proclamation, many warriors scoffed and spit upon the ground, and furious calls for action rose throughout the Hall. Tyr scowled.

"No one shall claim that the law of Odin is unjust!" The god of war roared. "Let him rise!"

Sif got up stiffly and two guards, at Tyr's direction, helped Loki to his feet.

Tyr studied Loki for a moment before addressing those assembled in the Hall. "Warriors and Counselors may stay. All else are dismissed to your homes," he commanded, his deep voice filling the hall authoritatively. "Speak of this to no one until the All Father casts his final ruling. By the spear of King Odin!" And he struck Gungnir upon the marble. Sif saw Loki eye the spear uncertainly. Tyr too, noticed the prince's confusion.

"Loki," Tyr said in a hard voice, taking a step forward, "I have known you for more years than I care to count. You enjoy your tricks and your games. This I know well. Until this last winter, never once were your tricks such as the treachery you delivered upon the Bifrost. In remembrance of those many years we laughed together as shield brothers and those years that I have since served your family, I am willing to allow you the chance to explain yourself, when most in this room would see you hanging by your wrists in the town center as food for the ravens. Do you understand?"

Loki held Tyr's gaze for a moment before inclining his head. Then Tyr nodded to Sif, indicating she allow the trickster to speak. Gritting her teeth in reluctance, she stepped forward and released the catch to his muzzle. It was then she got a good look at his face, sweat streaked and exhausted beyond anything she has ever seen. And there is anger. His body fairly radiated it. Like a forge stoked to a heat beyond its capabilities. Sif had to resist the urge to back away from him.

"You speak of brothers, Tyr?" Loki said quietly. The venom lacing his tone seemed to poison the very air. Chatter ceased, almost in fear of inhaling such rancor, and the Hall fell silent.

"What brother were you to me?" Loki continued, voice still level. "You did naught for me, but always for Thor. Chasing after him like a calf after its mother's utter. Forever trying to please him, forever trying to be like him…" Loki gave a derisive laugh and his eyes swept the crowd, as if accusing them all of the very same acts. His eyes landed on Sif last of all, and his smirk widened. Cold sweat ran down her neck as it felt as though every secret feeling and every attempt to bring herself closer to Thor was suddenly laid bare for all to see. Then those eyes returned to Tyr and she was released. She felt so sick she almost missed the next exchange.

"You even wanted to replace Balder as his precious younger brother, did you not?" Loki hissed, without breaking eye contact. Tyr went completely white. "The loyal Tyr, driven to dishonor by a lust for Thor's attention. Always for Thor." Loki sneered at the shocked expression on the war god's face.

"Speak not to me of brothers, Tyr. I have none."

* * *

"Thor, the brother of Loki…" Thanos mused aloud, surveying the Prince of Asgard from his throne. The god's clouded eyes did not waver from his, showing he still retained a modicum of free will. An impressive feat, the Titan would admit, even if it ultimately meant so very little. A will bent was as good as a will broken.

"A mistake on your part," Thanos continued, directing the comment at his general. The Other stood behind him, but Thanos could feel the tension his servant emitted with little difficulty. Doubtless he anticipated joining the pile of Chitauri corpses being stacked upon the impromptu battlefield. The Mad Titan was still considering it.

"It was, my master," the Other ground out. "It was my intent to bring you the god of lies, as you commanded. I have failed you." Thanos let the silence draw out as he contemplated what was to be done. As he thought, the Tesseract pulsed brightly in his palm, ready for use. And the thunder god stood at attention. Slowly, an idea began to form and the Titan gave the god a cold smile as he addressed the Other.

"Failure? No, not while I am in command." A glint sparked in his eyes as he rose.

"Ready the armies, general. Soon, Asgard will face our wrath," he paused, and hefted his spear. He watched as Thor's eyes followed the motion.

"Do not fret, prince, I will not be killing you this day," Thanos said reassuringly.

_No, you are far more useful to me alive._

* * *

_**A/N** Um, hi? Long time no see guys ^^; OKAY IN MY DEFENSE! Japan was distracting enough, but then I got sick with pnemonia. Add that to the 11 classes I was taking while abroad and then my rush to get home after finals and starting classes in America only 3 days after getting home while I was still sick and then failing my first two exams in my two hardest classes because I had no motivation for school and then scrambling to catch up all semester while working with messed up ribs and lungs from coughing and all my harder upper level classes and... I didn't have a lot of motivation to write. That's it, that's my defense. _

_Also, this chapter was hard to write for some reason. I went through like 6 or 7 different versions, and I'm still not terribly happy with it. But this version actually works out better for the rest of the story, which hopefully will run much smoother from now on. _

_On another note, I apologize for lying to you guys in the last chapter - I said that Loki would meet Odin, but I decided to.. postpone that for a bit :D_

_Let me know your feedback and thoughts! I'm trying to get back into the groove here, so bear with me and my many mistakes!_

_PS: FINALS ARE COMING. (sotheremightnotbeanotherchapteruntilsummerIamsoso rry)_

NEXT TIME: Clint learns not to bet against Russians, Loki still has a plan, and Sif just wants to kill something.


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